


Let's Be Awesome Together

by GrittyReboot



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrittyReboot/pseuds/GrittyReboot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: When Felicity Smoak breaks up with her live in boyfriend, she finds herself struggling to pay the bills and in need of a roommate, in comes Oliver Queen, a former rich kid left penniless after being cheated out of his inheritance. He needs a home, she needs a roommate, only problem is, he happens to be the same Oliver Queen who made her life a living hell in high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been up at fanfic.net for some time, but I thought I'd post it here over the next few days in case anybody missed it. Also, I plan on working out some of the kinks in the writing and adding a bit of extra material, including another Barry/Iris centered chapter in the middle (although there will still be way more Olicity than Westallen) And some references to Curtis Holt. I hope you enjoy, whether you're reading for the first time or revisiting it for shits and giggles.

She isn't sure when rent in the good part of Starling City became so expensive, maybe when Barry moved out, maybe before, she doesn't know. The apartment still has traces of him everywhere. The dishes and flatware he picked out are still in the cabinets and drawers. The walls are still painted the mint green color they compromised on after a little too much time spent debating. The framed Blade Runner poster he bought her for her first birthday as the Felicity half of Barry and Felicity is still hanging on the wall, as is the Tetris picture frame given to her last year after she got her appendix out. The picture of them taken during their weekend trip to Coast city has been since replaced. She can't help that Barry always gave the best gifts, and it's not like they parted on bad terms, awesome gift destroying terms. They parted as friends, both deciding that they wanted different things, needed different things. She needed to stay in Starling city, with the tech school she grew to love so much. He needed... her. No matter how much he tried to deny it.

In any case he's gone now, back to Central city, the same place Caitlin ditched her for. And she's here, in Starling City, stuck with mint green walls and considerably higher rent than a lowly adjunct can afford. She knows there are other options. She can move to a smaller place, maybe in a slightly worse neighborhood, it's not like she really needs the second room. It was Caitlin's back when the three of them were still roommates, before Dr. Snow got her fancy new job and Barry his fancy new girlfriend, when things made a lot more and a lot less sense all at the same time. The truth is she was relieved when Barry left, not because she never loved him, she did love him, she still does in a way, but when they were together she always got the feeling that things were just good enough, not great, not bad really, but good enough, and 28 still seemed like a bit too young to settle for just good enough. Things are better than good enough for Barry, according to his Facebook feed anyway, she should probably defriend him already, at least until things are more than just good enough for her too, at least until this little financial dilemma is taken care of. She should move, that would be the smart thing to do, start over, but leaving this apartment, her first one as an actual honest to God grown up, it would just feel like too much change all at once. Besides, the last thing she wants is to deal with moving vans and change of address forms and all that other nonsense.

She takes a deep breath as she opens her laptop, finding a roommate, the last resort before the last last resort. Since Caitlin and Barry left she doesn't really know anyone, except her coworkers and maybe Sara from spin class, Sara lives in the bad part of town with a life partner Felicity's only met twice, but she seems to like it, it suits her tough as nails persona, she'd probably be miserable here. Felicity doesn't want to end up shacked up with some psycho, and she knows that posting an ad online is the first step towards that, but desperate times call for desperate classified ads.

********

Forty

forty-one

forty-two

forty-thr-

Oliver!

Oliver flinches mid push-up as Digg enters the room, at the sight of his once and future mentor he scrambles up, facing him.

"Why'd you stop me?" Oliver says, his breathing heavy. "I was in the zone."

"I know," Digg says with a stern look that has become commonplace. "You've been in the zone for the past six months, _my_ zone."

I know I've been here a little longer than we first agreed upon..."

"Yeah, five months longer than we agreed upon."

"But I really think Isobel is onto something, she thinks me and Thea have a good shot of getting our inheritance back."

"And in the meantime you have a job, three of them actually, the last time I checked, and I have an extra room that's supposed to be reserved for my unborn daughter, not a down on his luck former student who can never sit still."

"What are you saying Digg?" Oliver says, commencing to punch the air in front of him in quick spurts, confirming Digg's accusation. "You don't want me here anymore?"

"It's not that I don't want you here, there's just no room for you anymore Oliver, the baby's coming any day now and she needs this room."

"I can sleep on the couch," Oliver says, pausing his impromptu boxing practice. His voice is slightly vulnerable in a way that makes Digg's hard look soften a bit. "I mean it's not like I'm some freeloader, I help you guys out."

"It's not about that, this isn't just about us, it's about you."

"And I like it here."

"I understand why you have abandonment issues," Digg says. "Especially after losing your mom last year, that can't be easy, but she's gone, your dad's gone, sooner or later you're going to have to learn to be on your own."

Diggle can sense the oncoming protest and mild panic in the younger mans face as he speaks, and at that he continues, making a calming gesture with his hands as he talks.

"Or," Digg says. "You can move in with Isobel, you've been dating long enough."

"She'll never allow it. Isobel likes her space," Oliver says, once again continuing to punch at the air.

"So do I."

"I don't get it, you're my sensei, a sensei doesn't just abandon his student."

"I'm not your damn Sensei," Digg shoots back. "You took karate with me 18 years ago and I've been trying to shake your ass ever sense."

"But you can't, because I'm awesome," Oliver says, his usual confidence reaching his voice again. And Digg can't help but crack an unwanted smile, it's true, part of him will never really be able to shake the knucklehead standing in his extra room, not ever since Oliver's dad died and his mom was desperate to find a suitable male influence for him. Oliver's been through a lot, he can't pretend not to understand that, but that doesn't change anything.

"Awesome or not, it's time to move on buddy," Digg says, clapping Oliver on the back.

"But Sensei Diggle, where am I supposed to go?" Oliver says, the use of the nickname getting the intended rise out of him.

"Well, I suggest you take some of that money you've been putting toward a new Katana and find yourself an apartment somewhere."

"My Katana money?" He's almost offended at the suggestion.

"Can you even use one?"

"Well I certainly wont be able to now."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine, you make enough money for a nice, modest place in, well, maybe not the best neighborhood. I mean you might want to invest in some extra locks."

"This isn't making this whole moving thing sound any more appealing."

"Or you can find a roommate in the nicer part of town," Digg suggests. "I know you lived in a mansion a little over a year ago, I can understand how the Glades would be a bit of a shock to the system."

"I guess I'll have to figure it out," He runs his hand over his sandy, close-cropped hair.

"If you need any help with the transition I'm right here."

"Yeah, thanks," Oliver says. "Thanks for everything."

"What's a good sensei for?" Digg says with a warm smile before turning to leave.

******

He contemplates his situation quietly as he cleans glasses, it's just busy work really, something to keep the staff occupied before the club opens, everything is cleaned and scrubbed the night before, so there's really not much to do aside from the checklist and making sure all of the taps are in working order.

"Why the long face Queen?" Sara says. She gives him a nudge as she walks past. "You lose your puppy?"

"No, just the roof over my head."

"Sensei Digg finally kick you out?"

"Well you didn't have to add the finally, but yes."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I have to find a place I guess, preferably with a roommate."

"Well you aren't staying with me and Nyssa that's for sure," Sara says.

"Like I'd even want to, you live in the shitty part of town," he says. "Besides, you guys would never let me join in."

"Yeah, been there, fucked that, not exactly itching for seconds" Sara says.

"Don't you mean thirds?" Oliver says, making her go a little red.

"What can I say? It was a confusing time." Sara says, shrugging. "But if you ever tried to pull that with Nyssa she'd break your legs."

"You know, I'll take your word for it."

"But if you're seriously looking I might know someone."

"Really?" Oliver says. He raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah, she was posting flyers at the gym last week, on actual paper so you know she's desperate," Sara explains. "Her names Felicity, she has this great apartment on the east side, she's an adjunct professor at the technical school, she's 28, she's totally adorable-

"Wait, are you trying to hook me up with a potential roommate or is this a set-up? Because you know I have a girlfriend," Oliver says.

"Yeah, and she's a total bitch," Roy says as he joins them behind the bar.

"Roy, be nice," Sara says. "Although he is right."

"Shouldn't you be cleaning the men's room or something?" Oliver says. He glares at Roy, he's younger than him and Sara, but never lets that fact deter him from speaking his mind.

"Already done," Roy responds.

"Well clean it more," Oliver says, to which Roy exhales sharply and turns to leave.

"Tell my sister I said hi!" Oliver calls after him in an annoyed tone before the younger man disappears into the restroom.

"Anyway," Sara says. "You should call her." She reaches into her back pocket for the flyer. "And not for a date, although I wouldn't be opposed to that."

He looks over the flyer curiously, the last time he had a roommate was when he lived with Tommy Merlyn for the entire four months he attended Princeton, but this Felicity seems promising enough. He's only known one other Felicity before in his life, it's not exactly the most common name in the world, he just hopes he gets along better with this Felicity then he did with that one.

_Starling City Preparatory Academy, 2002_

She wore the same clothes as all the other girls. Crisp white shirt and tie, sweater vest, blazer, plaid skirt, yet she still managed to look awkward. It was hard for her not to, with her stringy brown hair and lumpy, angry, painful looking acne, her thick rimmed glasses too big for her face and her mouth full of metal. She wasn't capable of fitting in, and he took every opportunity to remind her of that fact. It wasn't personal, everybody took their shots at the spazzy, hideous poor kid, the scholarship girl who always had her head buried too deep in her books to function in the real world, the girl too shy and socially awkward to manage a simple conversation without rambling like an idiot. Everyone made fun of her, and he wasn't one to deviate from the crowd, if anything he led the way, so if tearing Starling City Prep's biggest loser down was the thing to do, he'd do it better than anyone, and he did. For others it was a game, for him it was an art form. He wasn't sure what she ever did to piss him off, he knew that she was weird and annoying, and talked way too much on the rare occasions she would talk at all, and she farted in class that one time in ninth grade which was pretty classic, but none of those things really warranted his cruelty. If he had to give a reason, he did it because it was funny, and he liked the feeling he got when everyone laughed at his newest mean nickname or prank, it made him feel good about himself in a way that he couldn't explain. It helped that he never really thought of her as a living, breathing human being with thoughts and feelings. She was a target, plain and simple, and as he sauntered down the hall that day like so many other days, she was right in his sights, a stack of books in her arms, her posture hunched over, a piece of stringy hair in her mouth. It was like she was asking for it.

"'Sup Fuglicity!" He said as he approached her, making her look up, the fear visible in her face.

"Oliver?" She said. Her voice quaked a bit.

"Hey, I got a math problem for you, since you're so into that stuff." He said with a smarmy grin. "How many pockmarked freaks does it take to pick up four books?"

"I-I don't"

"Just one," he answered for her, flipping the books out of her hands and onto the floor. "Later Fuglicity," He said, laughing as he continued down the hall.

"Dude, that was epic!" Tommy Merlyn said, High fiving him as Felicity picked her books up.

He never wondered if he made her cry back then, or any of the other times, but every once in awhile, like right now with Sara saying the name Felicity, he wonders, and he swallows hard, thinking she probably did, she probably did every time.

*******

She hasn't been this nervous since her first date with Barry, more than eight years ago, but it isn't hard to figure out why, this is the guy she'll possibly be living with for the indefinite future, and all she knows about him is that he works with Sara and his name is Oliver. She's only known two guys named Oliver her whole life, one was a classmate at MIT who she beat in a robotics competition sophomore year, the other was a total jerk but that was a lifetime ago, the last time she thought about him was when she got a mild Schadenfreude high upon reading about his family's company losing everything last year, and then immediately felt bad about taking pleasure in another's misfortune, even his. And now she was about to meet the third Oliver, a bartender who needed a place to stay and could presumably afford the extra 800 dollars a month she needed to stay afloat.

She thinks she's picked the right outfit, casual and approachable, with just the right amount of quiet authority. The blue cardigan is a favorite of hers. It probably doesn't matter what she wears, or at least it shouldn't matter, but she wants this guy to know who he's dealing with, and first impressions are key. As the doorbell rings she fluffs her bouncy blonde ponytail, adjusts her glasses, and presses her red lips together once before going for the door, taking one last deep breath before opening it.

"Hi," he says with a wide smile as she answers it, and the hairs on the back of her neck immediately stand up at the sight of him. He looks the same, he's a bit scruffier and more muscular, and his school uniform has been traded in for a blue button down and relaxed fit jeans, and he's possibly, annoyingly, even more handsome than he was ten years ago. But she'd recognize that face anywhere, that smug, stupid, endlessly punchable face.

"Oh my god," she says, her voice choked. "You have got to be freaking kidding me."

"I'm sorry," he says. He furrows his brow in confusion. "Do I know you?"

She's not insulted, not by that anyway. She looks different, her skin has been acne free for years, even the scars are faded away now. Her dishwater hued hair has been traded in for a buttery blonde, her smile is thankfully sans metal. She's been told she's pretty even, something she never heard in high school, and after so many times she kind of believes it, but seeing him now makes all of those horrible feelings of self doubt come rushing back at once.

"It's me," she says, a spiteful edge in her voice. "It's Fuglicity."

She's never seen anyone's jaw drop that fast.


	2. Chapter 2

This is a joke, a prank Sara is playing on him, it has to be. This woman can't be Felicity, the last time he saw Felicity Smoak her pimples had pimples, her hair was a stringy mess, her posture was what could best be described as Quasimodo style. The woman looking at him right now with seething hatred in her eyes, she isn't Felicity. She's, well, smoking hot actually. Maybe not in the same way that Isobel is. Isobel is all legs and hair and dominatrix confidence. The woman standing in front of him is hot in a way he's pretty sure a lot of people don't see right away, she's the librarian you just want to fuck the shit out of against a bookshelf, with her glasses and neat hair and little sweater that hugs her body in that subtle way. And, Jesus she's still staring at him. He knows he needs to talk before she slams the door in his face, but he can't really find the words because she's so damn pretty and so damn angry, and he can't think about how hot other girls are when his girlfriend is across town. So he clears his throat and speaks.

"I get it, this is a prank right?"

"What the are you even talking about Queen?" her tone is snappish and annoyed.

"You can't be Felicity Smoak, I mean you're...

"What? What am I"

"Well, you're gorgeous," he says honestly. She looks a bit incredulous at the words. He's not sure whether it's because she doesn't believe she's gorgeous, or she doesn't believe that he believes it.

"Yeah, I was a beast in high school which is pretty much why you tortured me endlessly, because as we all know being a little unfortunate looking is a crime punishable by law."

"Did Sara put you up to this?" He asks. "Because I have to say, that's mean. Funny, but mean."

"Wow, are you really so dense you can't see that I'm getting increasingly pissed off the longer you keep this delusional act up?"

His amused expression finally settles. Sara didn't go to school with them, but she knows about Felicity, she's heard the stories. Serving as each others personal confessionals just comes with the territory of being best friends, best friends who were individually responsible for some shady actions in their past. But he has to admit it's a little too perfect. First of all they hadn't really talked about her in years, except maybe once or twice in passing. And her voice, although lisp free without the braces, sounds the same. And those eyes, even back when she was Fuglicity he noticed her eyes, bright blue and sparkly, but wise and focused all at once, he used to hate it when she'd stare at him, not even with anger, but more like disappointment, like she expected better, a lot like the way the woman in the doorway is staring at him right now. He's beginning to think this isn't a trick.

"Holy shit," He says.

"Yeah," the look on her face makes him feel small and stupid. "So I'm just going to close this now." She doesn't get far as Oliver blocks it with his foot.

"Are you seriously not going to leave me alone?" she violently swings the door open once again.

"Can you just hear me out?" 

"What is there to say?" 

"Well, I'm sorry, for one," He says softly, shamefully. "I mean, I know it was a long time ago but still, there's no excuse for everything that went down between us back then."

"No, there isn't." 

"But I was just a stupid kid." 

"And why should I care? Because you're a stupid adult now?" She says. "Yeah, not going to happen, people don't change that much."

"Well, you certainly have." And she really has, even with her fuming at him it's hard not to stare. Did she always have that body? If only literally everything was different, if he were the same Oliver Queen he was just five years ago, the girlfriend would be a non-issue, he'd seal the whole roommate deal in her bed. Of course there'd still be the matter of her hating him. And five years ago he wouldn't even need the roommate. So yeah, everything would have to be different.

"And how would you know I've changed, because I wash my hair now?" She says. "Just the fact that you would say that-

"Okay, yeah you're right, you're absolutely right, I'm sorry," He says. "I mean, yes, you look amazing, truly. But you have to believe me, I'm not the same shallow bastard I was in high school."

"Oliver," She pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Maybe you aren't, maybe you have changed, but that doesn't help the fact that there's still... there's just too much here," she points back and forth between the two of them. "I can't let you live here, okay, all I can think about when I look at you is how much I want to dunk your head in my aquarium and hold it there until you stop struggling. I'm thinking of you, honest."

"Wait, you have an Aquarium? Now I have to live here," he looks over shoulder at the fish tank inside. She doesn't look amused. "Sorry, not the time to joke."

"I really do wish you the best of luck on your apartment hunt," She once again attempts to shut him out, and once again groans when he blocks it.

"Are you kidding me?" She says "What do I have to do to get rid of you?"

"Give me a chance," He says, pure sincerity in his voice.

"So you mean do the opposite of getting rid of you?"

"I won't bother you I promise, I'll stay in my room," He insists. "You won't even know I'm here."

"Somehow I doubt you're the type that knows how to keep to himself." 

He can't help but think she's got a point, he regularly got an earful from Diggle about his lack of ability to keep a low profile. But he couldn't help it, Lyla loved taco and kung Fu movie Fridays, so did Dig, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"Okay, maybe not but I promise I'm a great roommate, I cook, I clean, I can incapacitate intruders."

"I can cook and clean well enough on my own, and I own a taser," she says.

"A taser is no competition for the Sound and the Fury" He shoots a glance toward both of his biceps and then back at her just in time to see her roll her eyes liberally

"A dudebro who makes William Faulkner references, interesting," She says. "Thanks for not flexing by the way."

"Felicity I know you have no reason to trust me," he pleads again. "But I'm desperate, I only have a few days to find an apartment, and I know you're desperate too because Sara told me."

"I'm not that desperate."

"But wouldn't someone you know be better than some psycho off the street?" 

She crosses her arms and raises one eyebrow at him, an almost mocking look on her face.

"Maybe not the best example," he says.

"Probably the worst example actually."

"Felicity, please, just give me a month, like a trial, I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that we can be awesome together."

She doesn't answer him back right away, she simply stares at him, mulling it over in her head, her arms crossed, her face frustratingly hard to read, and he breaths a small sigh of relief when she reluctantly sighs and steps aside.

*****  
He had learned to accept a while ago that none of his friends really _got_ his relationship with Isobel, he couldn't blame them, they didn't know her like he did, they only knew the cold mean girl who liked to snap her fingers at waiters, not the confident badass who drove him wild in bed and always pushed him to be the best he could be. He knew she wasn't trying to help him get back his inheritance for any kind of selfish reasons, she only wanted what was best for him, for his family, and the sooner they nailed Slade Wilson to the wall the sooner he and Thea could pick up the broken pieces of their lives.

"Somebody's energetic today," Isobel says, her breathing labored. "You really delivered Mr. Queen."

"What can I say, I'm happy," Oliver says, shrugging. "I found a place."

"Really?" she says. "You'e not moving in with your old math tutor or something are you?"

"Actually..."

"Wait, really? A roommate, at your age?"

"I'm only 28," he says.

"When are you going to grow up?" She rolls her eyes. "How are you going to take care of your father's company when you can't even take care of yourself?"

"My father's company will be in good hands when I get it back, Walter is the best man for the job, not me."

"So what's the plan Oliver? You're just going to let Walter make all of the decisions while you spend your days teaching a bunch of nerds Karate?"

"I teach Kung Fu, there's a difference," he's almost offended. "And why not? I like teaching, my life isn't all bad Isobel. I have a great job, great friends, great girlf-

"Please don't use the G word," she says. "You know it makes me uncomfortable."

"We've been going out over a year, something's gotta give."

"You know how much I care about you," she turns to face him, cupping his cheek with her cool hand. "But we're on two different wavelengths, and I just can't deal with all of these labels you're constantly trying to apply to our relationship, like boyfriend and girlfriend... love."

"I do love you," He says. He does, or at least he thinks he does. Maybe he doesn't love her in the same way he loved Laurel, but Isobel was always the kind of girl he pictured himself ending up with, and the fact that she stood by him through everything, he knows part of her must love him too, even if she's too much of a modern woman to ever admit it.

"Aww, and that's adorable, really, but this isn't high school, I'm comfortable with what we have," She says.

He doesn't argue, they've had this conversation so many times already, he knows there's no point. He was into it at first, the whole casual thing. She was the cool chick who didn't pressure him to commit. But it got old fast. And after awhile it began to feel like the problem was him, not outdated customs or patriarchal standards, just him.

"Listen, it's great that you're settling down," she says. "But you can't get complacent. Nows the time to think about your future, not to mention Thea's," Either he's just frustrated or her catty tone at the mention of his sister's name is sharper than usual, but it's hard to ignore this time.

"Why do you always say her name like that?" Oliver says. "That's my sister you're talking about."

"Your fresh out of rehab sister, I know," Isobel says.

"That was six months ago and she's doing great now, she's getting A's in all of her college courses, she has that internship at the law firm-

"Not to mention her promising career taking her clothes off for money."

"Watch it, you know I don't like it when you talk about her that way. She's just trying to keep her head above water the same as everyone else, there's no shame in that." Oliver says, glaring. Thea has always been a soft spot for him, even Isobel should know better than to go there. "Why are you trying to pick a fight all of a sudden?"

"That's not what I'm doing," She says.

"I know you well enough to know when you're trying to piss me off on purpose, what gives?" he asks. At that she shakes her head and throws the thousand thread count sheets off of her naked body. As she slips out of bed, going for her lacy black bra, he waits patiently for an answer.

"I think maybe we need to take some time," she says.

"Wait, you're breaking up with me, that's what this is about?" He follows her out of bed and scrambles into his own underwear.

"No," she says. "Of course not, it's just..."

"What, what is it?" He asks.

"I'm going to Russia," she says. "It was decided last week, the company is sending me there for four months to fill in for the Moscow chapter VP."

He faces her half naked and confused. She's been a little distant lately, even moreso than usual, but he never would have thought it was because she was planning on leaving the country. This is just like her, leaving him out of all of her decisions like his opinion doesn't matter, and maybe it shouldn't matter, it is her life after all. Still, it's easy to get a little fed up with the constant emotional distance she swears is perfectly healthy.

"Four months? You're leaving for four months and you're just now telling me?"

"I didn't know for sure whether it was happening, but now that it is I think it's an excellent opportunity for us to test the waters, you know?"

"Test the waters? As in you're going to be spending four months with a bunch of established businessmen who are a lot more successful and interesting and you want to keep your options open, am I right?"

"Oliver, don't be a child," She says. "This isn't a break up, I still have every intention of helping you reclaim your legacy."

"Enough about my legacy," He says. He starts scrambling into his clothes again, fumbling and graceless in a way that he never is. "This is about you and me, and if your plan is to string me along while you do god knows what in Russia don't bother."

"You know what, if you aren't going to be mature about this, I suggest you go. We can talk more when you've calmed down," Isobel says. She's so calm it drives him crazy.

"Yeah, I think going is a good idea," He says, he shoves his feet into his shoes one after the other, nearly tripping himself up with the effort, and he yanks his leather jacket from under the chair, where he'd flung it from his shoulders so eagerly in the throes of passion. He won't let her ruin his day, he's made a major step toward picking up the pieces, Sensei Diggle and Lyla were so proud when he told them and it made him feel proud too. And Felicity, Felicity was giving him a chance, a second chance to prove he could be something more than the jerk he used to be. And with or without Isobel, with or without his money, he would prove that he deserved it.  
****  
She hates it when Caitlin waits until the last possible ring to pick up, but at least she does pick up this time. She's missed her best friend's voice, and after the week she's had she needs to hear it. She wanted so much to say no, to get back at him once and for all for every indignity she suffered at his hands, but part of being an adult, easily the most annoying part, was learning to keep her priorities in order, and keeping a roof over her head sadly came before holding a grudge. Besides, as much as she hates to admit it, he was right, they hated each other ten years ago, and although she refuses to like him, she thinks maybe she can manage cold indifference. Still, she needs to vent, and the second Caitlin picks up she barely let's her get the "hey Felicity" out.

"I'm cohabitating with my arch nemesis, I'm like Batman without the agility," Felicity says.

"Did something happen between you and professor Palmer, because I have to say, I saw that one coming," Caitlin says.

"No, not that arch nemesis," Felicity clarifies.

"Is it that girl who keeps getting your order wrong at Big Belly burger?"

"Nope, guess again."

"Can you maybe help me out here? My lunch is only thirty minutes and you have a lot of arch nemeses," Caitlin says.

"It's Oliver Queen," Felicity finally offers.

"Wait, Oliver Queen, the billionaire?"

"Ex-billionaire," Felicity says.

"What did _he_ do to you?" Caitlin asks.

"Well, I never really told you this before but, we kind of went to high school together." She never thought she would bring up Oliver Queen again, he was always a part of her life best left a distant memory, an unpleasant page from her past, but when he showed up at her doorstep all of those bad feelings came rushing back, now she feels like she has to let them out before they strangle her.

"You went to high school with a semi celebrity, and you never said anything about it?"

"Of course not, high school was a nightmare for me, largely because of the asshat I'm now living with. Seriously, he used to bully me relentlessly. And all I wanted to do after graduation was forget and move on," She says. "I don't believe in fate or anything, but if it's real, it's a massive asshole."

"Okay, just tell me what happened," Caitlin says.

"Well, you got that job at Star Labs and ditched me," Felicity says, keeping her promise to never let Caitlin's abandonment of her go forgotten. "Then a few short months later my boyfriend realized he's in love with his sister and ditches me too."

"First of all, when are you going to let that go? Second, Iris is not Barry's sister."

"Yeah, I know but saying that makes him seem like the bad guy," Felicity explains.

"Can you just jump to the part where you're living with Oliver Queen?" Caitlin asks.

"I needed a roommate, I wasn't getting any bites, so this girl I know in spin class set me up with Oliver, and of course I said yes like an idiot because I'm a glutton for punishment," Felicity says.

"Or maybe you realized that high school was ten years ago and holding a grudge that long isn't very healthy," Caitlin says.

"Are you talking about Oliver or you?" Felicity says. "Anyway, I'm giving him a one month trial, if I can make it that long without wanting to set fire to all of his stuff I think I might be able to handle this."

"Of course you can, he's just a roommate, nobody says you have to be friends with your roommate, just take his money every month and live your life," Caitlin says. "Or you know, you could just get a smaller apartment."

"But I love this place," Felicity says. "The vibes, the view, and there's history here, you know. I mean just because you moved out and Barry and I didn't work out doesn't mean there are no good memories."

"Yeah, we really did have some good times there," Caitlin agrees, and Felicity can hear the smile in her voice. "And now you can make new memories... with Oliver Queen."

"God, just when I thought you would be comforting to talk to in this situation," Felicity says. But before she can continue her conversation the doorbell chimes. She's surprised that he's early, but not a good surprised, she was hoping to enjoy the last half hour of her Oliver Queen-free existence. "Anyway, I gotta go, the cromag is here."

She hangs up and sighs deeply before getting up to answer the door, and just as she suspected, it's him, with the first box.

"Hey roomie," He has the same same smug smile on his face as always. She's never wanting to punch anything more than that face. She wants to punch the handsome right off of it.

"Day one," She steps aside to let him in.


	3. Chapter 3

She takes a deep breath as Oliver enters the apartment and she proceeds to close the door behind him, almost hitting the young, square-jawed boy she doesn't see coming in after him.

"Not so fast," the boy says, entering with another box in tow.

"Oh, sorry," Felicity says, stepping aside. "You must be one of the movers."

"Nah," he corrects her. "I'm Roy, I'm sort of banging Oliver's sister."

"You know this place has a balcony?" Oliver says with a brightness that's clearly put on. "Felicity where do you stand on me dangling people off of it?"

Felicity tries to stifle a laugh as the younger boy audibly swallows hard.

"You know, I'd say it depends on the person," Felicity says. She doesn't really want to encourage him, but she has to admit that was funny.

"Roy being a pain again?" the voice behind her makes Felicity turn her head in the direction of the doorway a skinny brunette girl comes in, a box held between her arm and her hip.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Felicity asks her.

"Thea Queen, Ollie's troubled sister." She answers, a sardonic edge in her voice. "Surprised you don't recognize me from the local papers."

She doesn't but she supposes the Queens aren't exactly the Kardashians as far as fame goes. Yet somehow there's something eerily familiar about this girl.

"Wow," Felicity says, and she thinks the word applies, she's dressed down, her hair is messy and pulled back into a sloppy bun, and her face is free of makeup aside from a shadow of kohl eyeliner around her green eyes and a speck or two of glitter clearly left over from the night before, but she's still easily one of the most beautiful girls Felicity has ever seen. "You're stunning."

"Are you a lesbian?" The younger boy, Roy, chimes in, nothing spiteful or accusatory in his tone, still, Felicity can tell he's got more than a bit of nerve.

"Roy!" Thea and Oliver reprimand simultaneously.

"I got this," Thea says, setting her box down. "What the fuck?" she continues, smacking the back of his head.

"Ow! What?" Roy says, dropping the box with an audible thump. Felicity hopes silently that it isn't fragile. "She's friends with Sara I just, you know, assumed."

"That she must have at one point been sleeping with her?" Thea asks.

"No, but I know gay people sometimes hang out together, solidarity and all that jazz," Roy says. "And I don't get what the big deal is, it's totally cool if she's a lesbian."

"That's not the point you don't just go out and ask if someone is a lesbian," Oliver chimes in.

"Why not?" Roy asks, shrugging. "How else would you know not to hit on girl?"

"Because I'm your girlfriend you complete dumbass," Thea says.

"I meant men in general, not just me," Roy protests. "I wouldn't hit on another girl right in front of you."

And Felicity goes from vaguely amused to a bit nervous as Thea smacks him again, a little softer and on the arm this time, but still enough to make him recoil a bit. Felicity's never met Thea, she supposes she was still in elementary school when she and Oliver were in high school, but from the last few minutes she can tell that Oliver isn't the only extremely dysfunctional member of his family, in fact, right now he seems to be the mature, levelheaded one.

"Ever, I meant ever!" Roy says. "I'd never hit on other girls."

"Can I interject here?" Felicity says, calmly but loudly enough to grab their attention. They all look at her.

"You're right, it's not a big deal, but I am straight," Felicity continues. "Sara is just a friend... a terrible, terrible friend." she says the last part under her breath as she remembers who recommended Oliver to her.

"See, she agrees with me," Roy nudges Thea a little.

"Go fuck yourself Roy," Thea says, rolling her eyes.

"Isn't that your job?" Roy says, making Felicity more than slightly uncomfortable.

"Not tonight it isn't, maybe not even the rest of the week."

"Come on, I was kidding!" Roy says

"Kid some more Roy see if I pay for Netflix next month, now get to work," Thea says, unfazed, snapping her fingers and pointing sharply in the direction of Oliver's room.

He sighs deeply, bends to lift the slightly dented box, and starts toward the room. 

"Wow, I'm really glad Diggle was busy, you two are clearly the superior moving partners," Oliver says, his tone sarcastic and annoyed. "Now did you want to maybe apologize to my roommate?"

"I'm sorry," Thea says, seeming to mean it. "I don't know why I let him piss me off."

"Well, I'm sure he'd piss anyone off," Felicity says, a vague attempt to lighten the mood.

"He does," Oliver says. "Anyone and everyone. Constantly"

"He really can be a sweetheart sometimes though," Thea says warmly. "Whenever I'm really upset he lets me punch him as hard as I want."

"Most men buy flowers," Felicity says. "But I guess your thing is romantic... in its own way."

"And don't worry about that crack before, I've said much worse to him," Thea continues, waving at the air nonchalantly "I do feel bad about making him cry that one time, but he was asking for it, he said he didn't like my shoes."

"I've made that mistake before," Oliver says. "She's vicious."

"So, lets starts over, Thea Queen," She says, extending her hand for Felicity to shake.

"Felicity Smoak," Felicity offers graciously, noticing the way Thea's eyes widen in surprise at the name.

"Oh my god, I knew you looked familiar," Thea says brightly. "You teach at Starling City College right?"

"Um, yeah, computer science. Wait, do you go there?"

"Yeah, this is my first year," She says. And Felicity can see now why she looks familiar, she's seen her around campus, always dressed stylishly with a latte in hand, sunglasses on and a serious case of resting bitch face worn like a mask. She looks different now, warmer and sweeter.

"Wow, small world," Oliver says, clapping them both on the back, making Felicity tense a bit at the contact.

"Yeah... unfortunately," Felicity says, once again muttering the last part quietly.

"You know, I tried to enroll in your class actually, but it was full," Thea says before Oliver can speak again.

"Well, there's always next semester," Felicity says. "I'd be happy to have you, just leave the boyfriend at home, 'kay?" She continues teasingly, making Thea blush in latent embarrassment.

"Speaking of which, let me go help my pet idiot," Thea says, shifting to get a steadier grip on the moving box and starting off toward the room. "It was nice meeting you Felicity."

"Nice meeting you too," Felicity calls after her.

"So," Oliver says. he rubs the back of his neck in mild frustration. "That's my sister."

"Cute," Felicity deadpans. "So, was the thing about Diggle or whoever really true or did you just bring them to make yourself look better in comparison, because I have to say, Sid and Nancy in there still have you beat."

"I deserve that," Oliver says. She hates to admit it but it kind of drives her crazy how sincere he sounds. "And I probably deserve all of the other things you've told your friends about me."

"You know, you can at least pretend to be offended," she says. "This may sound petty but it makes me feel better knowing that I'm capable of hurting your feelings."

"I'm sorry," he says. He clears his throat. "Go ahead, lay another one on me."

Don't smile, Felicity thinks to herself, never give him the satisfaction of smiling.

"Maybe Later," Felicity says. "I have a class at one, just get yourself settled and I'll see you when I get home."

"Will do," he says, giving her a quick faux salute. She simply shakes her head a little and turns to leave.

He lets out a slow exhale as she disappears out the door. He knows he shouldn't have brought them, they can't be in the same room for five minutes without arguing about something, usually something Roy says or does. He had expressed his dislike for Thea's boyfriend in the past, but now it's mostly teasing, to be honest he's glad Roy's a part of her life. She may not have survived if it weren't for him, and he still remembers that pivotal night so clearly, when he almost lost her. That night Roy became something like family, and Thea was his family, his only family, and he felt lucky to have them both. Still, it's important that he doesn't screw up this whole one month trial and he can't say they helped the situation.

"So, which one of you do I have to chew out first?" Oliver says as he enters his bedroom, immediately noticing that they're both smiling, their little spats never last long.

"Come on dude, I know you're trying to make good with the roommate but I really don't see why paying your rent on time every month isn't going to be enough," Roy says as he unpacks.

"Because she's not just any roommate," Oliver says.

"So she's hot, what does that matter? Don't you have your so-called girlfriend?" Roy says. Oliver notices the slight glare Thea shoots him at Roy's perfectly honest appraisal of Felicity's appearance.

"You mean the one who hasn't answered any of my phone calls since she left for Russia a week ago? Yeah, pretty sure that's over," Oliver says.

"Thank god," Roy says.

"Seriously, congratulations Ollie, I couldn't be happier for you if you had gotten a parasitic twin removed," Thea says.

"Easy," He thinks maybe he would protest more if he weren't still kind of pissed at Isobel. "Even still, it's not like that with Felicity."

"What's it like?" Thea says with a teasing growl. He chooses to ignore her tone.

"Well, me and Felicity went to high school together," Oliver says. "And lets just say I wasn't always the nicest guy to her."

"What happened, you didn't sleep with her and never call her again did you, because that's so early 2000's you," Thea says.

"No, I was just a jerk," Oliver says, shrugging. "A bully, a capital D douchebag."

"Well at least the first two aren't true anymore," She says, prompting Oliver to throw his neck pillow at her.

"Anyway," Oliver continues. "She wasn't always as, well, fetching as she is now and I was pretty cruel about it. I know it was a long time ago but still, I just feel like I need to prove to her that I've changed. And it's not some sort of ploy to get into her pants or anything, it's not like that. It's just, it's not every day you get to correct something from your past."

"You clearly have changed, I mean, you just used the word fetching," Thea says.

"Look, the point is I live here now," Oliver says. "It's a new chapter, and not just for me, for all of us, Thea, you're doing great in school, you're sober, you're happy."

"Ish," Thea says, shrugging.

"Fine, happyish, but that's still better than most people," Oliver says. "You went through hell last year and you picked yourself up. And Roy, you just got that great new haircut," Oliver continues, satisfied with the way Roy rolls his eyes a little in annoyance."

"And me, I'm living in this great apartment, my lawsuit against Slade Wilson is making headway, And I'm finally making an honest living for myself, if I'm being honest I'm proud of us, even you Roy."

"Gee, thanks dick," Roy says.

"And I know it might not make any sense but I think living with Felicity will be good for me," At least he hopes it will, he noticed the way she tensed as he touched her, the small, nearly inaudible wisecracks, the nervous smiles. She isn't happy about this, not at all, but maybe if he plays his cards right, he really can change the past.


	4. Chapter 4

It's her favorite time of day, getting home after work. She loves her job, but the need to decompress still presents itself after about hour seven of lecturing class after class. She's off tomorrow, there aren't any papers to grade, nothing but pajamas and Netflix to look forward to for the next 24 hours. She twists the key into the lock and enters, and suddenly her optimism comes crumbling around her.

"29, 30, 31, 32, 33-

"Ahem," she clears her throat at the sight of her very shirtless roommate doing push ups on the floor, so much for keeping to himself.

"Oh, hey," he stands up and she tries not to blush as she gets a full view of his perfectly sculpted chest. She looks down and nervously rubs the back of her neck. "How was work?"

"Long," She answers. "Two three hour classes and a lab today plus subbing for that basket case Professor Magnus, I could certainly use something nice and stiff."

She notices the look on his face at the words and her face turns hot. "A drink, I meant a drink a stiff drink, not your... you know, where is your shirt by the way?" 

"Oh, sorry about that," he says with a smile, _God he has a nice smile_ , she thinks to herself against her will. She exhales in relief when he covers himself with a black T-shirt. "I guess I lost track of the time."

"Yeah, I don't mean to be a pain but can you maybe do that in your room from now on?" Felicity says. "I mean if you're going to insist on being half-naked, you know not that I don't enjoy your body... looking at it I mean, not the bad way. And yeah, done talking now, how was- how was moving?"

"All done," he says, mercifully keeping a straight face through her nervous babbling. "Turns out Thea and Roy were better moving partners than I thought."

"Well good that's very- what the hell is that?" She says, finally noticing that nearly half the living room wall is now being taken up by a giant flatscreen. "What did you do?"

"You like it?" He says . "It's one of the few things I didn't sell."

"Where is my TV Oliver?" She says, tense and angry.

"It's safe," he holds his hands up in a calming gesture. "I put it in your utility closet, you can set it up again any time you want, but..." he grabs the remote and switches the new tv on, she knows that he'll never learn unless she puts her foot down. This is a huge violation, but...

"Holy crap that's sharp," She says dreamily. "Is... is Norman Reedus in the room with us right now?"

"I know right?" Oliver says. "It's like we're in the middle of a real zombie apocalypse."

"God Oliver, this was seriously out of line I mean, this is my apartment not- Oh my God Run Glen, don't let him catch you!" She exclaims, her hand involuntarily clasping her mouth as she watches in excited horror.

"You know, if you don't like it I'll put your old one back," Oliver says. "It's just I thought you might like it."

"You know it's... it's really not a big deal I mean it is technically _our_ living room," her eyes are still hooked to the screen. "Just please ask me next time?"

"Of course, and sorry, again." Oliver says. "I'm just going to hop in the shower, enjoy the TV."

"Enjoy the shower," she says. He exits the room.

She made a promise to herself when he moved in that she wouldn't be a jerk, that she wouldn't be too much of a sweetheart either, that she'd just be. She has to admit though, he already isn't making this easy. She wonders what his deal is when she sits down on her soft, welcoming couch. He's like a completely different person, clearly just as self satisfied and entitled as he ever was, but there's a warmth there that she doesn't know what to make of, that wasn't there before. Noticing it makes her ever so slightly crazy. She remembers the last time he was this nice to her and the memory makes a hard lump form in her throat.

_She always sat alone, she couldn't really avoid it at that point, everybody thought she was weird. Except maybe Curtis, Professor Holt's son, but he was plenty weird himself and could never be found at lunchtime. She could chalk the lack of positive social footprint to her first day, when McKenna Hall graciously greeted her in the lunch room and didn't make it five minutes without bolting. In Felicity's defense she really hadn't meant to turn a conversation about being there on scholarship into a long-winded diatribe about how McKenna could've had HPV and not even realize it. She  
figured at that point that sitting alone was best, less chance of embarrassing herself that way._

_It was just like any other afternoon, she sat at her table alone like always, reading Good Omens and chewing the end of her hair when he appeared in front of her._

_"Hey, can I sit here?"_

_She looked up, her eyes wide and a little scared. Oliver Queen asking to sit with her? What universe was it?"_

_"Uh, sure, I guess." He sat across from her and read her book cover._

_"Good book?" he asked._

_She nodded, if she started talking she wouldn't be able to shut up._

_"Cool, listen, I'm going to need you to do me a favor."_

_"A favor, what kind of favor?"_

_"Nothing bad, it's just I heard through the grapevine you were staying with Professor Holt during your time here."_

_"Yeah," she said. "He's really nice, he's kind of like an older LeVar Burton. Not because he's black though, although I can't imagine I would make that comparison if he weren't, maybe Jonathan Frakes-_

_"Felicity," Oliver said, cutting her off._

_"Yeah, sorry, you were saying?"_

_"You know I have professor Holt for physics class, third period."_

_"Yeah, I know. I grade your papers sometimes."_

_"Pretty heinous huh?"_

_"Not necessarily," She answered with a shrug. "Your mechanics are abysmal, but you do show a surprisingly decent basic understanding of the material, I'm guessing you're one of those guys who can get by only half listening. Not to say you're lazy or anything it's just that kind of untapped intelligence is rare."_

_There was a small twinge in his face at the comment, a flicker of a smile. It may have been the first time anyone had ever implied that he was smart. It didn't change what was about to happen though._

_"Listen Felicity, you've only been here a couple of months and I know how hard it can be to make friends."_

_"Yeah, it's been pretty lonely but, you know, I'm focused on my studies."_

_"Yeah, if only everyone could be as responsible as you. My mom would love it if I had my priorities in order like that."_

_"Well, you know if you need tutoring or something I would be happy to help."_

_"You're a real sweetheart Felicity, really, but I think you and I both know that's not what I'm here for."_

_"What are you here for?" she said, guarded, quiet._

_"I'm here because I know you can get the midterm," her heart sank. She should have known. "In fact, see that table over there," she turned her head to see Tommy Merlyn, Helena Bertenelli, and pretty much the entire upper crust of Starling City Prep staring back at her. "They all have Holt too."_

_"Oliver... I-I can't"_

_"Oh I think you can," Oliver said. " Because those guys over there aren't just struggling physics students, they all have the power to pretty much make your life a living hell if you don't cooperate. In fact Helena's dad over there is one of the school scholarship funds top donors. The same scholarship fund that assures you a spot here and not roasting in the Hickville Nevada sun. And her daddy isn't one to let her want for anything."_

_"Why are you going this?" Felicity said, her voice shaking, a tear slipping past her bespectacled eye._

_"It's really nothing personal," He assured her. "I'm trying to survive here just like you, the difference is, I'm just a little bit better at it."_

_"If I get caught Holt could get fired, I'll get kicked out."_

_"Then the solution is very simple... don't get caught," he whispered, leaning forward "Think about it." he knocked twice on the tabletop and stood to leave_

"Hey, can I sit here?"

"What why?" Felicity says, snapped out of her painful memory by the sight of her freshly showered roommate.

"Hey hey, don't freak out, I just want to watch the new episode, I'm not going to steal your lunch money."

"Yeah, you actually used to do that," Felicity says. "And you were rich, it was weird. I didn't know that was a thing that real people did."

"Are you okay?" he says, probably noticing the way her voice is shaking.

"Not really," she says.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he scoots toward her.

"Don't! Okay? Just don't," she stands up and bolts to her room as fast as she can.

She stole over a dozen tests for them during her time with Holt. She never got caught, but that look of trust he gave her crushed her little by little. She thought about telling a hundred times, but Oliver was right, The Bertenellis, The Merlyns and the Queens had so much pull at Starling city prep her testimony wouldn't have made a difference either way. Holt's integrity was probably the only reason they weren't all getting A's in his class in the first place.

"Felicity," he says from the other side of the door as he taps it lightly. "Felicity, whatever I did I'm sorry."

"What didn't you do Oliver?" She snaps. "God I cant believe I thought I could do this."

"Felicity please, will you just come talk to me?"

"No!"

"Please?" he says again. She breathes in deeply with a faint, wet rattle, wipes her eyes, gets up from her bed and slowly cracks the door, he's leaning against the wall next to it, looking forward.

"I'm sorry about Holt Felicity. I'm sorry about a lot of things but especially that," Oliver says. She nods. She's not sure how he knows what set her off, but she guesses that was pretty high up on the list of indiscretions against her. "As someone with his own wise black mentor I know how important that relationship is."

"I know what you're going to say," she says. "It was a long time ago, you're not the same guy anymore, I need to get over it."

"No, I would never say that," he says. "You have every right to be pissed at me. The way I treated you was inexcusable, and to be honest you've been a lot nicer to me than I deserve."

"I guess that's just my pathetic spineless nature."

"You're not pathetic," he says, her hard look softens just a tiny bit. "God knows I was, and if things had happened a lot differently over the last ten years I may very well still be."

"What happened to you?" Felicity says. "I know it isn't just the money."

"Life happened to me," he says, almost. She notices the sadness in his eyes. "Life happened to all of us."

"I guess I just don't understand why you were so mean to me in the first place," she says. "Regardless of everything that happened after."

"To be honest, I really didn't think much of myself back then."

"You seemed pretty pleased with yourself to me," She says.

"Yeah, because I learned how to tear down people that I knew were a lot better than me, people like you," he says.

She shouldn't be flattered, not by him, but it's hard not to feel that twinge of satisfaction at the fallen high school hero admitting what she'd often fantasized about him admitting when the wounds were freshest. 

"You thought I was better than you?"

"I knew you were better than me," He says "I knew exactly how the world saw me, entitled rich boy who would never have to work for anything a day in his life, even my own mother saw me that way. My life was planned for me since birth and the scary part was, I knew I would never be special enough to change that plan. None of that is an excuse of course but..." He trails off and she nods in tentative understanding.

"Oliver, I don't hate you," she says, "I really don't. I don't even know you anymore to be honest. I don't know what you've experienced these last few years. I just, it's hard to look at you without seeing that boy."

"I can't even look at myself without seeing that boy," he says. "Do you know what regret feels like?"

She thinks about his question, and she too wishes she could have been different back then, that she would have stood up for herself more, fought more. And she thinks about Barry and how she was too afraid of being alone to end things much sooner, before being alone became inevitable anyway.

"Yeah," she says. "I do."

They just stand there in silence, him leaning against the wall, her leaning against the door jamb, close enough to touch him but not really knowing why she wants to all of a sudden.

"Do you want some pancakes?" he says, out of the blue, cutting through the uneasy silence.

"Oliver it's almost nine," she says

"Is that a problem?" 

"Hell no," she says. Her smile returns "do you know where everything is?"

"I brought my own stuff," he says. He starts toward the kitchen, she follows behind.

His pancakes aren't half bad, she thinks to herself as they eat in silence, hers might be just a tad better though.

"So," he says, his mouth is half full and it makes her giggle "Where do we stand exactly?" he continues after taking some time to swallow.

She shrugs. "You live here now, at least for the next month. I don't want to drive myself crazy by hating you. I mean, I'm not going to pretend we're best friends or anything."

"Well, thank you, for giving me a chance."

"Thank you for the pancakes," she replies. And they continue to eat in silence again.

"Felicity?"

"Hmm?" she murmurs, her mouth too full to speak.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but who is The Streak?" She pauses with a clink of her fork against her plate. Her eyes go wider as she looks at him. After a second of quiet contemplation she swallows her pancake and clears her throat.

"How do you know about that?"

"It was one of the options on your Netflix account," he clarifies. She nods in understanding.

"He was my boyfriend," she says. She sees no reason to hide it. "He moved out a month ago."

"What's the story there? Or is that too personal, if it is I'll drop it."

"No, it's fine," she says, shaking her head. "We met in College, junior year, I went to MIT, he went to BU, he was studying Forensic science on a track scholarship, he was so good they called him the streak."

"Did he not run fully clothed?" Oliver jokes. Felicity laughs.

"I actually preferred the Flash but it never caught on."

"It should have, that's way cooler," Oliver agrees.

"I thought so too, even if it also contains implications of unwanted nudity" Felicity says. She doesn't add the real reason he was so fond of it. "Anyway we were pretty much inseparable all through college, and after graduation me and my roommate Caitlin got jobs at Kord industries, me in IT, her in biomedical research and development, so we moved here and Barry came with us, and we were happy for a really long time, until... I guess we weren't."

She doesn't get into the rest, the accident, Central City... Iris, the originator of the stupidest nickname ever. Oliver is a grown man, he must know what she means, that people grow apart, even people in love. He nods in understanding, probably well aware that she's simply not ready to get into the whole story, not with him.

"What about you, you ever been in love?" She asks. And Oliver in love still feels like a ridiculous concept, but her curiosity gets the better of her and she has to ask.

"Once," he says. "Maybe twice."

"If you have to add the maybe it probably wasn't love," she says, and he doesn't protest. "So, who was the 'once'"

"Laurel," he says wistfully.

"Holy crap do you hear yourself? You practically sang it," she says. "What happened with Laurel? You sleep with her sister?"

"Actually..." he says.

"Jesus Christ Oliver, I was joking, seriously?"

"I was 19, I was a dumbass," he says. "And Sara-"

"Sara? Spin class Sara? Gay Sara?" Felicity says, flabbergasted.

"If it makes you feel any better we were both really drunk," he says. "And she shouted 'I think I'm gay' right in the middle of it."

She doesn't mean to laugh, but she can't help the loud, relentless guffawing that erupts from her at Oliver's confession.

"It's not that funny," Oliver says.

"She came out to you in the middle of it, oh my God!" Felicity gasps, still in stitches. "That is the best thing I ever heard."

"Correlation vs. causation Felicity, that's all I have to say about that," Oliver says.

"So, how are you even still friends?" Felicity says, pulling herself together.

"Well I guess you always have a special connection to the first person you come out to, and, well let's just say that's not the only thing the three of us have been through together."

"I guess that makes sense."

"So, now that you know one of my most embarrassing secrets-

"That's only one of your most embarrassing secrets?" she says.

"Do you think we might really be able to make this work?" he says, brushing off her insult.

"I think I'm going try," She says. "But just so you know, it's the TV I like, not you."

And as they eat pancakes together, she thinks trying might not be so hard.

****

He's early for his half-shift, hoping to get some facetime in with Sara before relieving her. He wants to thank her again for the tip about Felicity. Last night was actually okay, even if it did start out kind of shitty. Something about ending the day right makes the one to follow that much better.

Even their goodbye was more civil. She patted him on the back before he left and told him to have a good night. It was nice.

If only things didn't immediately get weird when he arrived at the club, at least three people tap his shoulder and say something cryptic through their slightly inebriated laughter.

A redhead girl taps him and he turns to face her.

"I'd still be willing to give you a shot gorgeous," the redhead says. She winks at him and turns away.

 _What is everyone's problem tonight_ he thinks to himself as he heads for the bar. Sara is just finishing up. She has a late date with Nyssa and she looks anxious to get to it.

"Hey Sara."

"Hey Ollie," she says, her bright blonde hair bouncing over her shoulder as she turns to acknowledge him.

"I just want to thank you again, you know for--

Roy speaks behind him, "Hey, you realize there's a sign on your back, right?"

He turns to face Roy, who is laughing so heartily the glasses rattle in the tub he's carrying.

Oliver quickly snatches it off, and even Sara pauses from closing out her cash drawer to see the source of Roy's delight.

"My name is Oliver Queen and I have a tiny penis?" Oliver reads out loud. Sara is quick to join Roy in his laughter.

" How did they know?" Roy says.

"Okay, real mature guys" Oliver says. "How'd you sneak behind me anyway?"

"Don't look at me," Roy says.

Oliver nearly crumples the note when he sees the bright light emitting from the bar top glow through the paper. There are more words on the back. He turns it to read.

_You didn't think it would be that easy did you? Have fun at work~Felicity_

"Well played Smoak," Oliver says with an involuntary grin. "Well played."

Stay tuned folks!


	5. Chapter 5

He knows it's a mistake, that he should just let it go. He's still not sure if he fully knows the woman Felicity has grown to be. There's a big part of her that doesn't want to let him in still, not that she has any reason to, and he knows on some level he's just being impatient, that she'll come around in time and there's no point in trying to rush things. But on another level he's never stopped regretting what he did all of those years ago, and that all of the apologies in the world won't retroactively fix everything.

He thinks it's better that he's in a good mood after class today, because he's not sure how far it's going to plummet after visiting Starling City prep for the first time in 10 years.

It looks a little different, he notices, he's not really sure why, the wood paneled walls are the same shade of Mahogany they always were, the black and white tiled marble floors still shine as if there is an invisible man perpetually polishing them, the kids look a little younger maybe, or that could just be because he's gotten older.

"Hey!" he yells after the first girl he sees. She's decked out in the same blazer, sweater vest and plaid kilt combo Felicity wore all those years ago. She stops for him, giving him a warm smile as he approaches her.

"Hi, are you here to pick up your kid?" she says sweetly, no malice behind it.

"Couldn't have said little sister or brother huh?" he says.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says. Apparently the kids are nicer these days too. "I just thought... never mind, what's their name?" 

"Actually I'm here to see professor Holt, does he still work here?"

"Yeah, but he's a dean now, his office is the third on the right," She says, pointing down the nearest hallway. He thanks her graciously and starts down the hall, curiously checking once behind him to see if she's still staring. She is. Suddenly the dad comment doesn't sting quite as bad. He turns again, continuing down the hallway until he reaches the office door, _Dean of Sciences Michael Holt_ emblazoned on the door. He takes a deep breath before knocking.

"Come," says a deep, familiar voice from the other side of the door. Oliver obliges. The memories come rushing back as he enters the office to see Holt sitting at his desk, completing a Sudoku puzzle in pen the way he used to during exams. He looks a little different, not aged much aside from a bit of gray at the temples and a pair of glasses Oliver doesn't remember being there before.

"I don't know if you remember me but-

"Oliver Queen," the man says genially. "Who could forget you?"

He smiles a bit awkwardly at the comment. "Are you busy, can I sit?"

"Please," Holt says, gesturing toward the seat in front of his desk. "What can I do for you Mr. Queen?"

"Well..." Oliver starts, rubbing his neck nervously. "I don't quite know how to say this so I guess it's best to just start at the beginning. Do you remember a girl named Felicity Smoak?"

The older man narrows his eyes a bit in contemplation, not as if he's forgotten, more because he isn't quite sure why Oliver would be asking.

"Of course Mr. Queen, she lived in my home for four years, excellent student, and a sweet girl."

"Yeah, she's great," Oliver says. His voice quakes the slightest bit.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, the thing is, me and Felicity recently reunited."

"Reunited, were you two ever friends?"

"No, not exactly," Oliver admits shamefully. "In fact, we were pretty much the opposite of that, I was very cruel to her in fact."

"I'm not going to pretend to have never noticed Mr. Queen, in fact I'm pretty sure a good chunk of your detention slips were handed out by me."

He remembers those well. "It's not something I'm proud of, but the thing is, we're sort of roommates now."

"Really?" Holt says, his eyebrows raising slightly. "How does a thing like that happen?"

"Mutual friend set us up," Oliver says, leaving out the part about Felicity's almost complete reluctance in the situation.

"It's great to hear that you two have connected in a more positive manner," Holt says. "But I must admit I'm not exactly sure where I come in."

Oliver takes a deep breath before speaking, he's not sure why he's scared right now, he's not a student anymore, there's nothing this man can really do to him, yet somehow he feels 15 again in his presence. He clears his throat and exhales sharply once more before speaking.

"When I went here, I did something very wrong to her, and you," he says. "I threatened to get her kicked out, if she didn't steal tests for me and some friends." He can't believe he even managed to get the words out, but now that he has there's no taking them back.

"I see," Holt says. His face is a stone. There's something a bit terrifying about his lack of expression at Oliver's confession, but Oliver doesn't break eye contact. Holt doesn't speak for what feels like hours, and when he finally opens his mouth again Oliver realizes he's been holding his breath the whole time. "What did she do?"

"She did it," Oliver confesses. "It wasn't her fault, I didn't give her a choice. Please don't blame her."

"I don't Mr. Queen," Holt says, still unnervingly expressionless. "I blame you, clearly. Threatening a student helpless to defend herself against someone more powerful is the worst kind of abuse."

"I know, I know and I've regretted it every single day," He says. "But I was fifteen, I was-

"When I was fifteen I was already a sophomore at Princeton, and I got there on my own merits. I didn't need to threaten anybody Mr. Queen."

"You were a genius," Oliver says.

"Maybe, but you were never dumb Mr. Queen, just too scared of failing to actually try, am I right?"

"Everybody is afraid of something," Oliver says. "Even you I'm sure."

"I've never been fond of clowns," he responds, free of irony.

"Professor- I mean, Dean Holt. "I know I can't fix what I did all those years ago-"

"Says who?" Holt cuts in.

"Well, I just assumed-

"Mr. Queen, as you probably know, I'm an atheist," Holt explains, and Oliver isn't quite sure where he's going with this, so he remains silent as Holt continues to speak. "I've always thought that waiting for some sort of redemption in death was a bit of a copout to be honest. The life that matters is the one we're living, if you want redemption, I suggest you work for it."

"What are you suggesting?" Oliver says nervously.

Another long and terrifying silence thickens the air between them."I suggest I kick your ass Mr. Queen," 

"I'm sorry, what?" Oliver says.

"You heard me, right now, in the gym," Holt continues, setting down his puzzle and standing.

"You want me to let you beat me up?" Oliver says incredulously.

"Of course not, I expect nothing less than a fair fight from you Mr. Queen."

Oliver still wonders if this is a joke, but Holt is hardly the type, and he can't imagine why he has yet to break character if he is.

"With all do respect, I'm not going to fight a 60 year old man," Oliver says.

"I'm 63, and if you don't see me as a threat I'm not exactly sure where the hesitation is coming from."

"I'm hesitating because this whole thing is ridiculous," Oliver protests. "You can't do anything to me if I say no, I graduated ten years ago."

"True, but you came here for my forgiveness, you can leave without it, or you can fight for it, those are your options."

"I came here for Felicity," Oliver says.

"Sure, you put Felicity through hell for four years and you expect to get out of it with a mere confession, I'm sure she'll be happy to know you're still taking the easy way out."

He's sure Felicity would understand why he can't fight a crazy old man, it's enough that he tried to make things right, it has to be enough, he thinks to himself, still, he can't help but wonder what this guy's angle is.

"Dean Holt, I'm a tenth degree black belt in Karate and Kung Fu," Oliver explains.

"Really, only two," Holt says nonchalantly, making the hairs on the back of Oliver's neck stand up. At that he marches past his desk and out the door.

"I don't have all day Mr. Queen," Holt calls back behind him.

****

He's been here before, on his back after getting his ass thoroughly handed to him. Granted he managed to stay on his feet for a good deal longer than a man of Holt's shocking skill level was probably used to, but he can't help but feel like the kid in Sensei Digg's class who wouldn't know a roundhouse kick if he took one to the face. He isn't even sure why he agreed to it, maybe it was male pride, maybe it was on account of everything happening so fast, maybe he really did want Felicity to know how much he wanted to make it up to her, but for whatever reason he agreed, and his face wouldn't exactly thank him for it.

"Mr. Queen, you sir are a worthy opponent," Holt says, extending his hand for Oliver. Still a little sore and out of breath, he accepts, letting Holt hoist him back into a standing position.

"Well, you said you wanted a fair fight," Oliver replies, removing his boxing gloves and mouth guard.

"You're a skilled fighter," Holt says, making Oliver feel just a bit less shame. "You just lack experience."

"Well, meet me back here in twenty years," Oliver says. "So, I guess we're square then?"

"Hardly," Holt says, making Oliver's heart immediately sink.

"What?" Oliver says. "I just took a beating over something I did as a teen and you're telling me you're still mad?"

"That wasn't a beating Mr. Queen, that was an audition," Holt says. Oliver knits his brow in confusion. "I'm starting an after school program dedicated to teaching kids confidence and focus through martial arts training, I want you aboard as an instructor."

"Wait, me?" Oliver asks.

"I don't see anyone else here, you do teach right?"

"How did you know that?"

"I've done my research Mr. Queen," Holt explains. "What do you say? Every Thursday from three to four thirty, of course we can't pay you any money but I like to think the restoration of your honor is better than currency in this particular situation."

"And if I do this, you'll tell Felicity that everything is forgiven?"

He looks contemplative at the question, but Oliver can't help but think he already has his answer.

"If you agree," Holt offers.

After a moment's pause he extends his hand in agreement, and Holt takes it, shaking it firmly.

"So you knew I could fight this whole time, why the beat down?" Oliver asks.

"For fun mostly," Holt says, clapping Oliver on the back. "See you Thursday."

****

His face and ribs still hurt as he walks, but he can't help but feel accomplished as he enters the apartment. But his sense of accomplishment comes crashing down around him as he opens the door to see Felicity staring back at him, her phone clutched in her hand, an angry glare on her face.

"What did you do Oliver?" she says, a tense pause between each word.

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Holt just called me, out of the blue, says he wants to have lunch, how did he even get my number?"

"Why do you think I have anything to do with that?" Oliver says.

"We get into a fight about Holt and then he calls me two days later wanting to catch up? What did you do?" She repeats, raising her voice. "And why do you look like you just got worked over by Andre the Giant?"

"Well, let me ask you a question," Oliver starts. "Did Mr. Holt have a few screws loose when you lived with him?"

"No, not really," She says. "I mean he did always try to get the mailman to fight him but I think that was more of an empty threat... Wait, are you saying you fought Mr. Holt?"

"He kind of insisted, it was the only way I could prove I was sorry for what I did all of those years ago," Oliver says. Felicity looks a bit confused but no longer angry. "That and help run a martial arts after school program every week for the indefinite future, but I have to admit that part almost sounds fun."

"Oliver, Mr. Holt is an expert in like every martial art known to man, I think he might have invented a few himself."

"Yeah, yeah he's Mr. Terrific, I know," Oliver says bitterly. "But if fighting him was the only way to make things right, it was worth it."

She's trying not to smile, he can tell, and just the fact that she's trying not to smile makes his own grow wider.

"So, he knows, about everything?"

"Yeah, and he was a lot angrier with me than you, so you don't need to worry that he thinks any less of you."

"I can't believe you did that."

"I can't believe I didn't do it sooner."

She shifts her feet a little, wondering what to say, what to do. The only thing she's ever been comfortable feeling toward Oliver is hatred, but over the last few days new feelings have emerged, pity, suspicion, confusion, mild lust, shame over feeling mild lust, and more confusion. If only she knew what his deal was.

"Okay what is your deal?" She finally asks, snappishly. "Why do you care so much whether I forgive you or not? I mean nothing to you, I never have, why can't you just be my roommate without making me a part of this whole self improvement quest you're so set on?"

"Because... I don't know Felicity," he says. He looks exasperated and sore as he crosses the room and sinks onto the couch. "Maybe I kind of... like you."

She rubs her temples in frustration "That's absurd Oliver." 

"It's not absurd, who wouldn't like you?" He continues. "And don't take it the wrong way, I'm not into you that way or anything, I just... the other night, when we were eating pancakes and watching TV together, that was really nice, and you're good to talk to and funny and the smartest person I ever met and I just wish we could hang out like that without this constant cloud over it you know?"

She never expected to hear those words from anyone, let alone Oliver Queen, when had her apartment turned into Bizarro word meets The Twilight Zone?

"I hope you realize this entire experience has been a constant mind fuck for me, you know that right?" Felicity says.

"I'm aware," he replies.

"You look like absolute hell," she says. "Let me get you some ice and then, maybe we can watch some IT Crowd."

"What's the IT Crowd?" Oliver asks.

"God, just when I was beginning to reconsider hating you," Felicity says as she goes for the ice.

She isn't sure when she falls asleep, probably sometime during the Sea Parks Fire mystery episode. But when her eyes flutter open the screen saver is on, her glasses are crooked on her face and there's something warm and moving underneath her. She tries not to cry out in surprise at the sight of Oliver stretched out on the couch, sleeping, they'd fallen asleep on the couch, her cheek pressed against his firm chest, his arm solidly draped around her back. She tries to move it, to escape without waking him, but before she can move too far the doorbell rings, waking him instantly.

"Wha.. huh?" Oliver says, confused, groggy. "What time is it?"

"A little after two," She says, checking her phone. She scrambles up from the couch, hoping not to have to address the fact that she just fell asleep on top of her roommate. "Who the hell just shows up this late?"

She looks through the peephole, immediately recognizing the brunette young woman standing at her door. She looks upset, she'd have to be to just show up in the middle of the night, she smoothes her disheveled hair and fixes her glasses before answering the door.

"Oliver, Felicity, I'm really sorry to come here so late but me and Roy just got into a huge fight," Thea chokes out through her tears.

"Thea, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it, I just, I need someplace to stay for the night, I know it's a lot to ask."

"Thea, this isn't my place, it's Felicity's I can't just-

"Come on in Thea," Felicity says, interrupting Oliver as she widens the door for the crying girl. "Did you need anything, something to drink, maybe some bed clothes?"

"No, I'm okay, could I maybe just crash on the couch?" Thea says.

"I'll get you some blankets," Felicity says with a warm smile, noticing the way Oliver smiles too, a foreign expression on his face that looks dangerously close to awe.

"Thanks a lot Felicity, I really appreciate this," Oliver says quietly. And he seems to entirely mean it.


	6. Chapter 6

Thea is still curled up on the couch when Felicity trudges like a zombie through her living room toward the kitchen. She didn't sleep much the night before, her head was so crowded with random thoughts of Oliver, and Oliver's sister and Oliver underneath her on the couch and what it all meant and whether it actually meant anything, that most of the night was spent thrashing in frustration between the covers. Clearly Oliver didn't have the same problem, he's already up, clear eyed and rested and making a pot of coffee.

"Hey roomie," he says brightly, and she hates when he calls her that, but she thinks what she hates about it the most is how much she doesn't hate it. "You look tired did you have some trouble sleeping last night?"

"Yeah, that's putting it mildly," she says, taking a seat across from him. "Is there enough of that for me?"

"Of course," He says, pouring her a cup.

"Thanks," she says, happily accepting it.

"So, I just wanted to apologize for Thea, this won't be a regular thing, I promise."

"Oliver, its fine," Felicity says, taking the steaming mug of fresh coffee. "Everyone needs a little help sometimes."

"My ears are burning," Thea says sleepily. Felicity turns her head at the sound of the younger girl's voice as she stumbles a bit out of her makeshift bed. Her brown hair is disheveled and her eye makeup from the night before is smudged, but she looks better, like maybe she'll get past whatever happened last night.

"So, exactly how bad are things with you and Roy?" Oliver asks, handing a second cup of coffee to his still waking sister. "Am I going to have to pay him a visit?"

"No, beating him up wont be necessary, it was my fault this time."

She looks guilty and sad at the admission, like it's been clawing at her all night. She gets up and goes for her purse, reaching in like what's inside might burn her. When she produces the object Oliver's face falls and Felicity looks away. She doesn't know whether to go back to her room and let them talk, or stay where she is, either way she knows that the next few minutes, if not days, are going to be extremely uncomfortable.

"Roy found this in my purse," Thea says, her voice breaking as she hands the baggie full of white powder to Oliver. "I tried to explain-

"Explain what, that you're using again?" Oliver says, not angry, just disappointed.

"I should probably leave you two-

"No, stay," Thea says, clearly afraid to be alone with Oliver, knowing the blowout that's about to take place, Felicity sinks back down onto the barstool, she won't comment, but she won't leave either.

"I wasn't going to use it, I swear, it was a moment of weakness, this dealer was circling the club and, and I caved, I figured I'd been doing so well I could afford one little mistake. But that thought was only in my head for like a minute. I didn't use any, I promise."

"Is that what you told Roy?" Oliver says, and Thea nods shamefully.

"He didn't believe me, he told me I needed to go back to rehab."

"Do you?" Oliver says, his voice dark and cutting.

"I can't," Thea says. "Things are going so well for me at school and they're making me manager at the club, I can't throw that all away for one slipup. But I get it, I know he worries about me."

"We all worry about you Thea," Oliver says. "We almost lost you remember?" He remembers that night so clearly, a month after mom died when Roy called him, his voice so frantic and choked with sobs. He was there when Roy carried Thea's lifeless body to the emergency room, she was so strung out on pills and alcohol he wasn't sure if she was dead or alive at that point. "Why did you keep it, why didn't you just throw it out?"

"It's been in my purse for three weeks," Thea admits. "I just felt like throwing it away would be admitting that I couldn't resist it. Having it and not taking it, it makes me feel stronger. I tried to explain that but he wouldn't listen."

"Look Thea, I know how strong you are, how strong you've always been," Oliver says, his voice sympathetic. "But sometimes that's not enough, sometimes you have to be even more than that, and it sucks and it's not fair, but it's the way it is. You have to throw it away Thea."

Felicity looks at Thea, at her tear-stained cheeks and trembling hands, and then at Oliver, his calm kind face, no judgment in his eyes. As he reaches for the baggie, an involuntary smile reaches Felicity's lips.

"If you ever feel overwhelmed, or like you need to talk to someone, you know I'm here right?" Oliver says softly.

"Yeah, I know," she says, smiling weakly through her tears. "Do you think Roy will forgive me?"

"I think that kid loves you more than even he can handle sometimes. And you should talk to him, he's probably cooled down." Oliver says. "Did you want me to go with you?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I should probably face the music myself. I'll just go wash my face and be on my way."

"You know, I think it's good you look that way," Felicity interjects "Nothing says I'm sorry like streaked mascara."

Thea lets out a low sigh and slides off the barstool. "You know, I think you're right," Thea says, wiping the last stray tear. "Thanks for everything, you've been really cool about this Felicity."

Oliver and Felicity continue drinking their coffee in silence as Thea replaces her shoes, folds her blankets and says her goodbyes. She's never seen this side of Oliver before, she never even knew this side of him existed, this kind, supportive, emotionally mature person who loves his sister, she still doesn't quite know what to make of him.

"I'm sorry about that Felicity, I didn't mean to involve you in my family drama," he says after Thea takes her leave.

"For the last time Oliver, it's fine," Felicity insists again. "Actually, you were pretty great with her."

"I wasn't always," He admits. "It's so easy to get frustrated with people when you can't envision yourself in their shoes. When our mom died, I didn't really see how much it took out of her until it was almost too late."

"But she's really okay right?"

"She will be," Oliver says hopefully.

Things change, little by little, step by step. They watch TV together every night, their taste being surprisingly similar in most cases, although he can't get her into Sons of Anarchy and he has yet to warm up to Orphan Black. She cooks some days, he does the honors on others. She stops making him work out in a shirt, partially because she wants him to be comfortable but mostly because she enjoys the view. They learn more about each other as the days turn into weeks. She learns that Oliver is a world traveler, having been pretty much everywhere barring Antarctica, and that he learned more as a college dropout than he ever did in his year in the Ivy League. He learns about her mom, how her dad left them high and dry when she was a kid and how she went through a major goth phase in college. Before she knows it he's started putting greek yogurt and cracked pepper triscuits on his shopping list because he knows she likes them, and she starts to DVR old episodes of Top Gear and Archer because she knows they're right up his alley. She still falls asleep on him sometimes, but they don't talk about it, she doesn't know if she'll ever talk about it, things are good, the last thing she wants to do is make them weird. In fact things are so good she forgets sometimes how much she misses talking to Caitlin. She knows her best friend is busy, but her absence in Felicity's life is a little tough to take sometimes.

She drums her fingers on the countertop as she waits for Caitlin to answer, they still need to go over final details for their Starling City Comic Con trip. It's in a week and Felicity still doesn't know if Cait's genderswapped Viserys costume is ready yet.

"Felicity, hey," Caitlin answers. "I'm so sorry I've been a ghost lately, Wells is pretty stingy when it comes to giving me time off."

"Not too stingy to give you this weekend off right?" Felicity asks, her eyes fixed on the beautiful, book accurate Daenerys costume hanging on the door.

"Actually.." Caitlin says guiltily.

"Cait you promised," Felicity says, frustrated. Part of her knew Caitlin would bail, she's not mad at her, not really, just annoyed that she hasn't seen her best friend in months.

"I know, I know and I promise that we'll be there for Christmas but-

"Wait, we? Who's we?"

"Well, I didn't want to jinx it by talking about it too soon, but I've kind of been seeing someone." Caitlin says, a weird combination of guilt and excitement in her voice.

"You've been seeing someone? And you didn't tell me? Your best friend?"

"I promise I'll make it up to you," Caitlin says. "Please don't be mad at me Smoaky."

"Don't be cute right now, I _am_ mad at you," Felicity says. She was warned over and over that the friends she kept into adulthood might be hard to hold onto, she didn't want to believe it, she still doesn't want to believe it now. She didn't tell her about the new guy, but it's not like Felicity has talked about everything that's been going on with Oliver. Although, to be fair, she's not quite sure if there's actually anything to talk about.

"But if you want to make it up to me you can start by telling me about this guy," Felicity continues, relenting. "I'm guessing he works at Star Labs since you apparently never leave."

"I kind of hate that you know that," Caitlin admits. "But yes, he works with me, in the engineering department, and he's really sweet and he loves football weirdly enough. But seriously, enough about me, how are things with Mr. Hottie?"

Felicity dwells a little on her question, what can really be said about Mr. Hottie?

"Weird," is the only word she can find. "Things have been weird."

****

She hates going to these things alone, but going alone is better than not going at all, she thinks to herself as she gets everything organized for tomorrow, she's sure she'll run into some old friends she can hang out with, and inwardly hopes to God one of those old friends aren't Barry.

"So, is asking who Grant Morrison is one of those things that would make nerds hate me?" Oliver asks as he flips through her itinerary.

"Yes. And is there a reason you can never stay out of my room?" Felicity says, facing him, he's made himself comfortable on her bedside chair, and she tries not to laugh at the realization that her platinum wig is sitting on his head.

"It's way bigger than mine," He reasons.

"Which is why I pay 400 dollars more a month for it," She says, walking up to him and playfully snatching off the wig.

"So, who're you going with? One of your techie friends from the college?"

"Actually no," Felicity grumbles. "I'm doing this Con alone, my BFF bailed on me."

"Wait, you're going stag to a comic book convention? That's like taking nerd to a whole new startling level."

"Have I told you lately how happy I am that your asshole days are behind you," Felicity says sarcastically.

"Well, I'm not really doing anything this weekend, I can always go with you, if you want."

"Wait, you? At a comic book convention?" Felicity says incredulously.

"Why not? I like Spiderman and shit," He says, shrugging.

She ponders it silently for a second. He seems sincere enough, and as much as hanging out with Oliver outside of the apartment goes against all of her rules, she can't help but consider the benefits of having a hot guy on her arm if she were to run into Barry. She knows it's petty, and she shouldn't care about saving face with an ex, even still, she can't resist.  
****

She can tell he's just the slightest bit uncomfortable making his way through the crowd decked out in blue paint, guyliner and her Wonder Woman wig repurposed into a long braid, but wrong ethnicity or not, he's pretty much the perfect last minute Khal Drogo. And she feels beautiful and sexy in her low cut lilac dress, flowing white locks and violet prescription contacts.

"You know I still maintain that my own clothes would have been fine for this," Oliver says.

"You wanted to come," Felicity insists. "And you look great, everybody is looking at you right now."

"Yeah, exactly my point," Oliver responds.

"You'll get used to it, I started doing this for Barry, now I can't imagine not going in costume."

"That's easy for you to say, you look amazing."

She tries not to blush, tries and fails. He really needs to stop, stop complimenting her, stop being thoughtful, stop screwing with her head, but for right now she'll let it slide.

After awhile, he starts to find his rhythm, the first time someone asks to take his picture he simply stands there like a mannequin crossed with a corpse, but after about fifteen or so he starts to come up with different poses and expressions, even interacting with Felicity in some of them, she lets out an involuntary squeal when he hoists her up onto one shoulder for one photo, and she can feel her heart flutter a little when he cups her face and stares deeply into her eyes for another, but she ignores it. She always had the best time with Caitlin and Barry, but Oliver becomes a surprisingly terrific substitute after awhile. He even gets up to ask a Question at the DC panel and makes some pretty strong points in an Iron Man vs. Batman argument he gets into with another attendee in line. Oliver at a comic convention is fun, who would have guessed?

They make their way through the exhibit hall, window shopping the steampunk and weaponry booths and stopping for photos every few minutes. She probably owns more swords than a 28 year old woman needs, still she sighs a little at the sight of the Longclaw replica at the Solomon and Son's Swordsmithery booth.

"I want," she says dreamily as she takes the ornate piece of metal in her small hands.

"Why? It's a glorified butter knife, who could you possibly hurt with it?" Oliver asks dismissively.

"What it lacks in functionality it makes up for in awesomeness," Felicity argues. "Don't pretend like you wouldn't kill for Jon Snow's sword."

"I'd rather kill with Jon Snow's sword," He replies, jokingly, she hopes.

"Are you expecting a zombie apocalypse at some point?"

"Zombie apocalypse, no, terrorist attack, who knows?" He says, taking the wolf headed sword from her and feeling its weight a little in his hand before handing it back to the merchant.

"Oliver, Oliver!"

They both turn their head to the sound of a young girl's voice. She's About twelve, Asian, swarthy, short for even a kid, and Felicity can't help but think she's the cutest Katniss Everdeen she's seen today.

"Missy! How's it going," Oliver says happily, greeting the girl with a high five.

"I didn't know you would be here," The little girl says, piquing Felicity's curiosity further.

"Yeah, neither did I," Oliver replies. "I like your costume."

"Yours is great too," Missy says. "And you make a really pretty Daenerys."

"I'm both flattered and slightly concerned that you watch Game of Thrones," Felicity says.

"My mom lets me," She says shrugging. "She says it's more educational than Disney Channel."

"Well, I'm not going to argue with her there," Oliver says.

"Anyway, I'm Artemis," The girl says, extending her hand for Felicity to shake.

"I'm Felicity."

"Are you Oliver's girlfriend?" She says in that typical bashful 12 year old way.

"Um, no sweetheart, we're roommates," Felicity insists. "Just roommates."

"She's a child you don't need her validation," Oliver whispers as Missy turns to look at an Elsa cosplayer walking past.

"Anyway, I gotta go find my mom, but I'll see you Tuesday Oliver," Missy says and with a cute wave she disappears into the crowd.

"So how exactly do you know her?" Felicity says.

"You know I teach archery on Tuesdays and Wednesdays," Oliver explains.

"She's in your archery class?" Felicity asks as they continue to move through the exhibit hall.

"Yeah," Oliver says with an odd mixture of embarrassment and pride. "Ever since The Hunger Games and then Brave my class is mostly composed of preteen girls."

"Aww, that's easily the cutest thing I've ever heard."

"You say that now but those girls are a bunch of badasses," Oliver says. "Although I do know a lot more about Frozen than I ever wanted to."

She's not sure why she does it, or even if she's the one who initiates it, but the next second her arm is looped through his. He doesn't protest, if anything he seems proud.

"You know, I thought this day was going to be a complete disaster, but it's actually been sort of fun."

"Yeah, it has," Oliver agrees. He looks at her, his gaze warm and friendly and they continue their stroll through the hall, arm in arm.

 _"Hey, hey Mother of dragons!"_ He probably wants a picture, she thinks of the skinny ginger haired young man that's approaching her right now, his slightly shorter, slightly thicker brunette companion by his side. "Can I get a picture with you?"

"Sure," Felicity says graciously, welcoming him by her side as his friend prepares to take the shot.

"Just the lady if you don't mind," The redhead says to Oliver, he looks a little reluctant, but steps aside, letting him take the photo.

"Thanks Dany," The redhead says, grabbing a handful of Felicity's backside.

"Excuse me, are you fucking insane?" Felicity says, shoving the redhead off of her.

"Sorry, my hand slipped," he chuckles

She's dealt with creepers before, it comes with the territory, but she's still shocked at the audacity.

"Apologize to me right now before my hand slips across your face."

"What are you gonna do? Sic your dragons on me?"

She can't even react fast enough before Oliver has him by the lapels of his blazer, jerking him up to eye level, nearly a foot off the ground.

"She said apologize," Oliver says darkly.

"Hey dude, let him go," the redhead's friend says.

"Or what?" Oliver continues before glaring back at the man firmly in his grasp, nobody stops him, probably because from a certain distance it looks like a photo op. "We're waiting."

"Dude are you crazy?" The redhead shouts fearfully.

"I haven't even begun to show you crazy, now if you at all value your teeth you'll apologize to my friend."

"He means it" Felicity chimes in, arms crossed seriously. "I know for a fact that those muscles aren't just for show."

"I'm sorry okay, I was just messing around, I'm sorry," The redhead says frantically. After taking a moment to mull over the sincerity of his words, Oliver doesn't let him down as much as let him fall.

"Learn to respect women," Oliver says, crouching down to speak to the fallen redhead. "Or prepare for a very lonely existence."

He stands upright and puts an arm around Felicity, continuing through the crowd.

"Okay, you are officially my hero," Felicity says. "Did you see that guys face? You scared the crap out of him."

"He disrespected you and I reacted, anyone would have done the same."

"Maybe, but you do know I could have handled it right?"

"Are you kidding? You were terrifying, I just wanted you to know that you had someone in your corner, that's all."

"Well, thank you, seriously," Felicity says. "You know, I have to admit I'm a little shocked, it's like you're this awesome nice guy now, what happened?"

"I grew up," he says simply. "Ooh, Transformers."

He starts toward the other end of the hall to admire the display cases, and Felicity follows, rolling her eyes in amusement, but she only makes it a few feet before she sees them, plain as day. Him, slim, tall, green eyes, wide smile. Her, petite, brown skinned, bright, sweet face that's so impossible to hate that she hates it. Barry. Iris. Their hair is different than usual, his sandy brown hair and her long dark hair are both disguised with blonde wigs, and they're both decked out in elaborate medieval looking getups, him in a beige and burgundy tunic and chaps, her in a long crimson dress with intricate gold embroidery. And dear God that's fucked up.

"Oh my God, Felicity!" Iris says, or more like squeals. And Felicity forces a smile as the gorgeous temporary blonde sprints toward her.

"Iris, hi," Felicity says, embracing her. The ex girlfriend and the current girlfriend, the world's most awkward relationship.

"Oh my god, you look awesome," Iris says. "I so wanted to do Daenerys but Barry didn't feel comfortable going shirtless."

"Well, you make a great Cersei," Felicity says.

"Please, Black girl in a blonde Wig? I've gotten Storm three times already," Iris says a bit dejectedly, "But I guess an even blonder wig wouldn't have actually solved that. Anyway, why don't you say hi to Barry?"

"Actually I-

"Barry!" Iris calls excitedly, interrupting Felicity, and as Barry's attention is grabbed, Felicity hopes to god her great day hasn't immediately gone up in flames.  
 **Stay tuned folks!**


	7. Chapter 7

She should have turned the other way, pretended she was someone else, anything but this. 

'Hi," Barry says, smiling without his teeth and not even a little with his eyes. Felicity hasn't seen him since he left for Central City, it's been a little under two months but he looks different in a way that suggests he'd still look different in one of his usual sweater vests and high top sneakers, and not as one half of blonde, incestuous twins from a fictional royal family. They have a sense of humor about the complicated history behind their relationship now, which is good, they never really had a reason not to. Surely they've taken a lot of slightly naughty joy in their public displays of affection today. 

"Doesn't she look awesome?" Iris says almost musically, releasing a bit of the tension from Felicity's shoulders. Iris always says nice things like they've been proven by science, and the rare mean thing like everyone else is in on the joke.

"You really do," Barry agrees, with nearly the exact earnest inflection he used when he told her "I really wanted this to work," she believes it, but it hardly matters anymore.

"Thank you, so do you," Felicity says. She figures Oliver is probably noticing some other cool thing to wax nostalgic about nearby. Or he's just as likely taking his first free moment to chat up another cute Daenarys cosplayer. Maybe he'll take a picture with her because a passerby mistakenly thinks they came together, and they'll both figure it's pointless to correct said passerby, and once they're done taking the photo they'll ditch her for a spontaneous makeout session behind the DC booth... and okay, she's overthinking this. Felicity isn't really a Dothraki princess, and Oliver isn't really her moon and her stars, so it shouldn't matter who he chats up or makes out with when he should be helping her save face with Barry. Still, she looks past Barry and Iris to see if he's still in plain sight, and lets go of the remaining tightness in her shoulders when he approaches them.

"Oliver," Felicity says, with maybe a bit more excitement than intended as she ducks out of the nonstarter of a conversation between Barry and Iris. Suddenly Oliver looks like home, like his smile is only for her. She almost needs it to be, because Barry and Iris are right there, and happy and secure enough in their relationship to dress like twins and find it more funny than weird. And because of that, and because Oliver came with her today, participated and took photos with her and not some other Dothraki princess, she kisses him.

He could pull away, and embarrass her even if nobody actually saw him pull away, but he doesn't. He doesn't even stiffen at the contact too much, he lets her kiss him, as if he had expected them to kiss sooner, like the time they rifftracked Breaking Dawn together when it came on right after Looper and they didn't feel like changing the channel. They made each other laugh with their commentary about how Jacob couldn't keep his shirt on for five seconds and how Oliver certainly wouldn't know anything about that, would he? The wedding dress at the beginning was pretty, the love scene wasn't bad, the lighting made Felicity slightly sleepy in that way that caused her to put her head on his shoulder like it wasn't a big deal. And if other things were to happen that wouldn't have been a big deal either. For some reason it just wasn't, and neither is kissing him right now, it's playful and friendly. She'll save shifting her feet and avoiding talking about it for tomorrow.

"Um, Barry, Iris, this is Oliver," she says, turning to them quickly without looking at Oliver's face first. She could say he's her roommate, but that would lead to a bunch of questions she doesn't actually have the answers to. She could say he's her something else, but that would be a lie. She shouldn't have any reason to lie to them about who Oliver is to her, so she simply ends with "this is Oliver," and Oliver doesn't include any further explanation when he offers a handshake to Barry, Then Iris.

"Mr. Queen," Iris says demurely in a way that implies she knows exactly who he is, but doesn't want to make him feel too awkward about it.

"Your profile in Forbes blew my mind, I really like that quote about destiny being a suggestion, not an obligation," Barry says, clearly not worried about making him feel awkward. "And your costumes kick ass." He smiles for real this time, and Felicity puts a hand on Oliver's back, a silent thank you for not making it weird

"So, what panel are you off to next?" Barry says, sliding his arm around Iris's waist, no longer bashful about it.

"Oh I was just gonna

"Brian K. Vaughn," Oliver interupts. "That's his name right?"

"Yes, that's the one, thank you Oliver," Felicity says. If Oliver hadn't just saved her she'd give him a really hard pinch right now.

"Oh, same as us!" Iris says. "I love Saga, don't you just love Saga?"

"Of course," Felicity says. "It's great."

"Me and Barry are totally doing The Will and Gwen next year."

"I told you I'm not doing that," Barry says. "I'm glad you're finally getting into comics but even I have my limits."

"Oh come on babe your hair will grow back super fast," she says, mussing his blonde wig playfully, making him laugh involuntarily. Damn it they're cute.

"Maybe. But if I end up looking stupid I'm blaming you."

She thinks maybe doing one panel together won't be so bad. And it isn't. They talk mote about the day they've had so far as they wander toward the meeting hall, and by the time it's over Felicity is past most of the awkward feelings. The Vaughn panel is the last one of the day, but there's a club one block down that's doing a cosplay theme tonight, and one of Caitlin's coworkers from StarLabs will be performing with his Sci Fi themed breakdance troupe, Return of the Fly Guys. It sounds fun, and nobody is asking any unanswerable questions, so Oliver and Felicity accept the invitation without much hesitation.

****

Oliver made a beeline for the bathroom upon arrival and Barry and Iris are now talking to a short, affable looking man in a lazer printed spandex stormtrooper costume with the helmet under his arm, most likely Caitlin's breakdancing coworker. Felicity stands against the bar, alone with the first Lemon drop cocktail of the night. Kissing Oliver had been a mistake, by every logical standard. He had been the worst kind of person to her for four years, and the best kind for a little under a month, and she was never the kind of girl who would try to make an ex jealous, she's still not that girl, not really. Barry being Jealous wouldn't change anything, except making things needlessly complicated. She doesn't want Barry in that way anymore, still, she kissed Oliver on the mouth in front of him and it made everything okay for a second.

 _"I'll have a scotch and soda please,"_ The ice clinks in her glass and she tenses a bit at the sound of Oliver ordering his drink. He's changed into his normal clothes, not giving the fun he had today a chance to turn into prolonged discomfort from being exposed to too much air conditioning and wanton looks in his shirtless state. He kept the guyliner though, which makes Felicity smile, even she's left her wig in the car, replaced her contacts with glasses and put a cardigan on over her lilac dress.

"Thank you," she says, as he settles next to her, sipping his drink. "For everything, but especially...

"I know," Oliver says sympathetically. "Running into an ex is never fun."

"It's just... I hope you don't think I was trying to make him jealous or anything. That's over, honest."

"If you don't mind my asking, why did you?"

She exhales slowly before downing the rest of her drink in one gulp. She takes his drink too, and downs it, stopping his protests with the assurance that she'll buy him another one when they return. She grabs him by the wrist and leads him outside where it's quiet and she can talk, because for the first time since he moved in, she wants him to know.

"You asked me before, why me and Barry broke up," Felicity says as they lean against the glass paneling alongside the building. "Well about six months ago he was in his old hometown for a conference and, there was some sort of accident at this demonstration he was attending, the machine malfunctioned and Barry wound up in a coma for three months."

"Wow, I have to say Felicity that's a pretty cold reason to dump someone," Oliver jokes.

"Clearly that's not the end of the story," Felicity continues, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, I went to see him whenever I could get the time off and, like clockwork Iris was always there, I mean every time, it's like she never left. And she was always talking about her day or reading his favorite books to him and asking the nurses a thousand questions about what they were doing, and I just didn't get it, you know, what was it about Barry and this girl? And I did know about her, I knew her dad was his foster dad for like seven years and they were friends even before that, and he used to talk about her a lot so I knew they were close, but it was different when we were all in the room together, I felt it, you know? And when he woke up, it was like they were in their own world together. Me and Barry would be talking about something and it would remind Iris of something else and they would just completely overhaul the conversation, and sometimes I'd come in and she'd be rubbing his shoulders and she wouldn't even look guilty, it was like it was just something they did, you know? It was like they weren't even doing anything wrong because they didn't know any other way to be."

"Did you tell him how that made you feel?"

"That was the problem," Felicity says. "I didn't feel anything, I didn't feel like she was stealing him away from me, I talked to her all the time too, and she was always so nice, we even went to the movies together one night after visiting Barry. I liked her, and that scared me because I should have hated her, right? She had this bond with Barry that I didn't have at all after seven years together, and I wanted that so much, but I realized that I didn't want it with him anymore. I wanted someone to love me the way he loved her, for once I just wanted to be that girl, and I never felt that way when we were together. And I don't think Barry ever felt that way with me, but I knew when I saw them together that he could still have that chance if he could just admit to me, to himself that he was in love with her. When I told him that, he was so upset because he thought he'd hurt me, I guess I've felt the need to prove it to him ever since that he didn't."

"So, is that why you kissed me? So Barry wouldn't feel bad?" Oliver says.

"I don't know, that's part of it I guess, but I think what I really wanted was to feel the way they felt, for just a second. Not that... not that you make me feel that way I just mean, you know. It just felt, kind of, like I was letting go of something. All of that insecurity about who I am and how people see me. When I kissed you, at that moment I felt like there was nothing in my head telling me that I couldn't, that I wasn't pretty enough or sexy enough or someone like you would never give someone like me the time of day, and it was a really good feeling. I hope that doesn't make you feel bad."

He could shake his head, mutter "whatever" under his breath and leave her there, deciding never to do her another favor again, but he doesn't. The glass pressing against their backs tremors with the start of a new song, familiar to both of them even when competing with the chatter of passerby outside, and he simply says.

"Do you want to dance?"

"Yeah, I do"

_When your best friend's all strung out/You'll do everything you can 'Cause you're never gonna let it get 'em down/When you find it all around/Yeah, it comes in waves, but it's hardest from the start_

He dances like James Bond seduces women, with the sort of confidence that suggests he'd be just fine with or without her, and his moves solidly back up his air of smugness. But what Felicity has always liked about Bond girls was that they could hold always hold their own, and she moves with surprising grace herself.

"How'd you learn to dance like that?" she yells over the music.

"Kung Fu is just dancing that can hurt you," Oliver explains, shrugging. "You?"

"There was an arcade walking distance from MIT, Dance Dance Revolution was a great way to unwind after 12 straight hours of studying."

_It's comes up/I've been a spoken word/I've been a river bed/I've been a rabid voice/And let it flow up from within_

_Sometimes it feels like I only dream in black and white._

He twirls her by the hand and settles her body against his so they can sway as the beat slows at the refrain. Her hand creeps up to the back of his head. He could kiss her shoulder right now, his lips are right there and she can feel the heat of his breath, but he doesn't kiss her. This is just a song they both like and dancing is fun, even without him kissing her. Somewhere her ex and his girlfriend are dancing to the same song, But it's hard for Felicity to be concerned with any of that right now.

**Stay Tuned Folks!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, but since it's more of a conclusion to the last one I hope to be forgiven

Caitlin's breakdancing coworker is named Cisco. He's a hip-hop acrobat and his oversized helmet on top of his lithe spandex-clad body is quite the sight gag. He pop and locks to a remixed electronica version of Vader's theme as the multi-colored lights dart back and forth across the stage, a disembodied lightsaber battle happening in every direction with Cisco in the center.

The alcohol in Felicity's bloodstream as well as the warmth of Oliver's rough hand on her shoulder turns her muscles to warm, swishy liquid. The music moves faster than she dances, but Oliver doesn't move at all aside from an occasional, courteous nod. Surprisingly adept dancer or not, hip-hop really isn't his thing.

"He's great isn't he?" Barry shouts, nudging Felicity with a gentle elbow, and she agrees with a vigorous nod. "You should see his Boba Fett routine, he performed it for us at Ronnie's 30th, it was insane."

Her body stills at the name. She's never met a Ronnie. The name means nothing to her, yet Barry says it like Felicity should know it. Barry talking to her like a friend didn't happen immediately after her kiss with Oliver, it started with him nervously asking about her job as they waited in line for the unisex bathroom. They've now settled into an amicable if uncertain rapport, like any lingering issues or questions are comfortably filed away. She should leave them there, and not draw attention to the fact that they're no longer a part of each other's lives. She asks who Ronnie is anyway.

"Didn't Caitlin tell you?" Barry replies. "He works with her and Cisco, they've been on a few dates now. He's a really cool guy."

Caitlin did tell her about the guy she's seeing. She didn't mention his name. She certainly didn't mention how chummy they all are in Central City. Caitlin is the only other person Barry really knows there anymore aside from Iris West and her father. They were friends too, that wasn't going to change just because everything else had. They've probably even found a hangout where they all go together to sing drunken karaoke and talk about sex without really talking about it. Some things should just stay filed away.

"Ssorry," She says with the pained expression she usually reserves for walking in on two people talking about her. "I just need to get some air."

She slips out from under Oliver's steady hand and pushes her way through the crowd. They dart out of the way instinctively. someone who is a specific degree of upset, and someone about to throw up in a night club carry themselves in a remarkably similar way. From Oliver's perspective it seems like she may need a second person to hold her hair, to rub her back, to keep her glasses from falling off of her face into a pool of vomit. Oliver starts after her, but Barry stops him, well aware it isn't the alcohol.

"Let me," he says, not giving Oliver the time to respond before going after her. She's just broken free from the dance floor when he catches her by the shoulders, stopping her from leaving. She deflates under his firm grasp. If her intention was to avoid talking about it, she should have stayed right where she was, letting the music drown her thoughts for awhile.

"We probably need to talk," Barry says, putting one friendly arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the coat check, the only relatively quiet pocket of space in the club. He asks her what's wrong, not that there's really any need to reiterate with words what she plainly said with her expression. But the conversation has to start somewhere.

"You know, I thought for the longest time that I only missed Caitlin," she says. "Pretty stupid huh?"

"No it's not stupid," Barry says. "It's not like I don't miss you too. I mean, you weren't just my girlfriend, you were my friend, and I was hoping that you still could be. You think I never look back on our Cards Against Humanity Wednesdays?"

"Yeah, but there's nothing stopping you from any of that stuff. You have Caitlin, and Cisco and Iris and Ronnie. Your life is like How I Met Your Mother, Central City, except Iris hasn't been dead the whole time. I mean, I have Oliver, and he's shockingly a great guy but somehow it's hard for me to accept the fact that Oliver Queen is pretty much my only friend now."

He laughs as if Felicity had just suggested the Star Wars prequels were narratively stronger than the original trilogy.

"What? What's funny about that?" Felicity says.

"Felicity, Oliver may be a lot of things, but he isn't your friend."

"Look, I'm not going to pretend we don't still have some things to work out but I think he's earned some credit."

"That's not what I meant," Barry assures her. "Do you not see that he's absolutely crazy about you?"

"Yeah... about that kiss, it wasn't really what it looked like."

"I'm not talking about the kiss Felicity," he explains. "I'm talking about the way he looks at you like you're the only girl in the room, I'm talking about how he wore a Khal Drogo costume for you today, even though when you and Iris were taking your turn at Street Fighter he pointed out a Peter Baelish Cosplayer to me and asked, who's that one again?"

"Really? I mean I know he's only on season one but I thought for sure he had read that character outline I typed up for him."

"You typed him a Felicity Smoak brand character outline? And he still hangs out with you?" He jokes, prompting a semi-playful glare from Felicity. "How many pages was it?"

"46 but I hardly see-

"Yeah, my point stands, that guy thinks you hung the moon and invented bacon."

She looks over her shoulder at Oliver on the dance floor. He too is scanning the crowd, maybe for her, maybe for one of the shot girls in the Dalek outfits. In any case, Barry is one of the smartest people she knows, but he's dead wrong about this one. Right?

"I'm not even his type," she insists, still looking at Oliver. A Dalek shot girl crosses his path, presumably offering him a relatively economical 6 dollar shot, to which he politely shakes his head before beginning to scan the crowd again. She should consider it a win, but her racing thoughts push past the implication of what Oliver is doing right now. "Anything that has led you to believe I'm his type is just a result of him being a decent person to me for once," she continues, looking at Barry again.

"Smart and pretty isn't his type?" Barry says without a hint of a second agenda.

"Awkward motormouth that he used to bully isn't his type," she explains.

"Well I think you're wrong." he says, shrugging.

"Wrong about what Bear?" Felicity and Barry both turn toward Iris's voice. If his mind is frantically feeling for a lie right now it'll likely make things worse then they need to be, Felicity always used to tell him his sad attempts at feelings-sparing dishonesty were like scissors cutting the wrong wire, blowing up everything in sight.

"Felicity thinks Oliver doesn't like her," Barry says without a hiccup, the truth, interestingly.

"Wait, you guys aren't dating? What was all that making out about?" Iris says. She doesn't seem the least bit irritated about being deceived, just curious as to the why.

"Yeah, cosplay makes you do crazy things I guess," Felicity says with a shrug.

"Well boyfriend or not, a guy doesn't dress like that because he doesn't like you," Iris says. "Trust me on this, you've got your nerd mojo working like gangbusters."

They have been in a strange sort of limbo for the last few weeks, skirting a strangely thin line between too comfortable and not comfortable enough as far as the other is concerned. There have been moments when only an aptly timed distraction has kept her from resting a little too long on the idea of touching him in very bad places. Has he had the same urges about her? Has he locked them safely in his "things that will make this weird," compartment?

"I have to talk to him don't I?" Felicity sighs.

"I'm going to have go with yes," Barry agrees.

****

He's not just in deep shit, he's up to his neck in the kind of quicksand that only a strong hanging vine and a jet pack will free him from. Liking Felicity in that way can only end badly. She's his roommate, who until very recently fantasized about running him down with her car. He's done everything right, he's made amends, he's been the best version of himself around her at all times. He's done those things to finally put to rest the worst version of himself, the one who victimized Felicity and broke Laurel's heart and didn't pick Tommy up the night he called. That Oliver needed to go. He kept insisting that to himself those first few days under Felicity's roof, when part of him thought it would be easier for them both if he just found another place. There was a point though, where everything just stopped being about all of that. Being with her hasn't been about being a better person even once today.

They went to a 24 hour Big Belly Burger walking distance from the club to sober up and end the night with one final vice. Barry showed off the books he got signed that day and rued the fact that he'd have to return to his supposedly humdrum life as a forensic scientist on Monday. Iris gushed about getting to meet Lana Parrilla and kept stealing Barry's fries. Cisco brainstormed his next performance, a Jazz number with C3PO that would be 100 percent different from his tap number with C3PO from last year. And Oliver ignored his burger and kept wanting to crawl under the table so he could slowly slide Felicity's underwear down and go to town on her right then and there. He was pretty convinced the others were way too into their conversations to even notice if Felicity were to stop offering her input and start sighing heavily at the feeling of Oliver's scruffy face between her thighs. She looked at him the third time the thought crossed his mind, and smiled at him with the same sun ripened peach of a mouth she'd pressed against his earlier. She started to slide her finger around the rim of her glass, making it sing. He wanted her to touch him with those fingers, make him sing too. At that point he finally picked up his burger and told Barry that being a forensic scientist sounded pretty cool actually.

After they say their goodbyes and nice meeting yous, he shuts his eyes and leans against the cool window on the ride home. no awkward conversations about what exactly is happening between them can arise if his eyes stay closed. The car is silent aside from NPR on the radio. It's an off feeling. Talking to her is usually so easy, in spite of, or maybe even because of all the reasons it shouldn't be. She babbles like she has too many thoughts to keep track of at once, she can't go a day without saying something inappropriate completely by accident, she snorts when she laughs, and she wrote him a 46 page character outline to help him through Game of Thrones. The Oliver from ten years ago would have tortured this girl, beautiful or not. Now all he wants to do is protect her from him, to punch him in the face for hurting her, to reassure her over and over again how criminally adorable and amazing she is. But he can't do those things, because if he does, things are going to change, and he won't be able to stop it.

They're still silent as they drag their sore feet from the parking garage to the apartment. It's 330 in the morning and they both look like they've spent a day surviving the real Westeros, however in tact their spirits actually are on the inside. If things were different she'd be leaning on him right now, her hand solidly in his, and he'd kiss her hair and thank her for bringing him, instead they enter the apartment one after the other, still quiet. She shuts the door behind them and locks it and smiles tiredly at him. He should say something, he can't just not say anything.

"So, I had fun," he finally says.

"Yeah, me too," she replies. "It was really fun being on top of you... the picture! I meant when you took my picture and I was on your shoulder. Not, not tha-

She doesn't get a chance to explain, because in the next second she's pressed against the door, her glasses knocked off her face, her hands unsteadily grasping his shoulders. And his mouth is on hers as his hand makes its way up underneath her lilac dress.

He shouldn't have said anything.

**Stay tuned folks!**


	9. Chapter 9

He kisses like he's doing a cannonball off of a high dive, woohooing the whole way down, she kisses back like she's tasting good champagne for the first time in a very long while. She isn't playing a role now, no feigning confidence to quell some unspoken discomfort. And it's good, it's damn good. It's good like nothing has been good for either of them recently.

"Oliver," she finally breaths when he breaks free to explore the soft pulse of her neck, flavored with the tiniest hint of her sweat, and the gentle swell of her cleavage, rising and falling with her heavy breathing. "Oliver, can you talk to me for a second?"

"What did you want to talk about?" He says in a labored whisper, barely detaching himself long enough to utter the words before his mouth lands back on hers. Her hand grasps desperately for his hair like she wishes there was more of it to hold onto, her arm wraps around his broad shoulders, letting him settle her against the door as his own hand braves the surface beneath her panties, cotton ones. Her ass is perfection enough without the decoration of silk and lace.

"What is even happening right now?" she gasps. Her ear is in his mouth, and her giggle catches a little at the contact. "Oh Jesus we're making out?"

"Yeah, I caught that," he whispers gruffly. She squeals a little when he swings her around to walk her to the couch. He loves the way she squeals, it's almost like an involuntary tic and it's so damn cute it makes him chuckle a little in response. He lays her against the cushions of the couch and kisses her deeper, his toungue and lips restless against hers.

"Oliver stop, just stop for a second please," she says softly, her voice hoarse and breathy.

"Yeah," he says, stopping in the middle of removing her cardigan, she lets it rest around her arms as she sits up, and she fusses with the buttons on his shirt to still her shaking hands.

"Baby what's the matter?" He says, tilting her chin up so she can look him in the eye, only for a second before she focuses again on his buttons, on whether or not to undo them he guesses. Nobody has ever called her baby before. She likes it.

"I like you," she says.

"I like you too, so much," he leans in again, but she stops him with one hand.

"I can't like you Oliver, I hate you, I can't like somebody that I hate."

"Are you sure, I mean, have you ever tried it?" he says. "I hated Coldplay on principle for the longest time, but what can I say, Yellow is a really good song."

He needs to stop making her laugh.

"Listen," he says. "We don't have to do anything tonight, we can, you know, take things slow or whatever."

She can tell he's not the type who usually has to take things slow, with that face and that body, taking things slow with Oliver probably wasn't a concept that women he dated in his past were all that familiar with. He's like Spanish fly on legs. She can feel how much she wants to violate him radiate through her body, it's been so long since a man has touched her, and Barry is as cute as a button, but she has to admit she's never been touched by a man quite as beautiful as Oliver Queen.

"Can you kiss me again?" she says.

"Totally," he can barely get the word out before his mouth is once again on hers. He lays her back down and kisses her like she's beautiful. She thinks she might be beautiful, she feels that way underneath him. She hasn't been laid in forever, but obsessing over how long it's been since she's had sex with anyone made her forget for a moment just how much she loves kissing.

"Hey, Oliver?" she says as his lips travel over her collarbone.

"Yeah," he looks her in the eye again.

"I'm going to ask you to promise me something, if you can't then this ends now."

"What is it?"

"Please don't hurt me."

"That's it?" he says, his eyebrows darting up in incredulity, the corner of his mouth rising in tender amusement. She nods seriously, and his features settle to match her expression.

"Felicity, I would never."

"Promise me." She repeats, a little more frantically, a demand.

"I promise," he says, his voice firm and even, free of pretense or hesitation. Everything has been leading up to this, when he saw her again for the first time in ten years, there was no choice. She wasn't just that girl he used to pick on in high school, if there had been no history between them at all she would still be every bit as beautiful as she is right now, he'd be every bit as impatient about kissing her, and he'd mean his promise just as much.

"Well in that case, congratulations, it's been a month, I think I can safely say you passed the test."

****

Things were always going to change, you don't just make out with your roommate until you fall asleep without things changing. When Oliver woke up with Felicity's cleavage as a pillow and her fingers lazily stroking his hair, he knew. She made breakfast that morning, glancing back over her shoulder at him every so often and smiling nervously when she realized he was looking too. They talked about the convention as they ate their egg white omelettes and sipped their coffee. 

"I'd think I'd go again next year," Oliver said. They both went silent at the implication, would they still be living together in another year? Would they be sleeping together? Literally and euphemistically? They hadn't had sex the night before but they could have, no matter what manner of awkward it might have made things going forth. Before she left for work she leaned in a little with her mouth before stopping halfway, he nearly completed the action, kissing the side of her lips at the last second. Making out on the couch was one thing, a peck on the lips before separating for work in the morning was another thing entirely, a "couple" thing specifically.

He hasn't been home all day, he taught adult advanced in the morning and children and teens for most of the afternoon, then used the Wuquan's facilities for some light sparring practice with Nyssa. It's Sara's birthday tonight and Nyssa recommends alcohol or a DVD set for a gift, and also that Oliver not wear that stupid shirt again this time, he doesn't own any stupid shirts but Nyssa doesn't feel whole unless she's giving him shit. He almost asks if he can bring Felicity, but swallows the idea as immediately as he gets it. Felicity and Sara don't really know each other all that well, besides, Laurel will be there too, the four of them at the same party will already be uncomfortable enough. Nyssa and Sara have been dating ever since she came to work at the Wuquan with Oliver, and he and Nyssa have treated each other with casual contempt ever since. When she strikes, he's meant to feel it. If Felicity wears that particularly short blue skirt or talks too much about the logical inconsistencies of _Interstellar_ , Nyssa will without a doubt comment, she never takes to anyone immediately, especially not anyone associated with her girlfriend's sort of ex. And Laurel may have her reasons for hating him but it doesn't change the fact that she'll take every opportunity to make him look bad.

He buys Sara the second best pair of bluetooth noise cancelling headphones Best Buy has to offer and a bottle of Jagermeister for the party. As he heads home to change he passes a CVS and considers stopping. He's had time to think about whether not going all the way before was some sort of blessing in disguise. It seemed like a good idea at the time, with all of the post con adrenaline still clouding things, but now Oliver can't help but wonder if he'd been careless. It wasn't just that he had wanted to have sex, he wanted to have sex with Felicity, not even all of the gorgeous, scantily clad cosplay girls with their come hither smiles could get the idea of being with her off of his mind. If he does what he was going to do the night before, had she not shot him down, there will be no turning back, sex can mean nothing or everything depending on the person, and with her there's no way in hell it'll mean nothing with her. Not for him, not knowing her way he does now. As for Felicity, she isn't Isobel; she feels, she's warm, she's sweet, she cuddles, she makes pancakes, she eats pancakes, she said he was amazing and she meant it... He thinks once more about stopping and it takes everything in his power not to. 

Felicity is sitting at the countertop, grading essays on her laptop when he arrives, tossing his keys on the coffee table like usual.

'Hey you,' Felicity says sweetly over her shoulder. He doesn't know what to say or do because anything could be the wrong thing at this point, but she seems happy enough, more comfortable than she was this morning. He comes up behind her and tentatively puts his hands on her shoulders, proceeding to rub them gently. She tenses at first, almost making him rethink the gesture, but she succumbs to his touch a mere moment later. "That feels nice," she purrs as her fingers go slack on the keyboard.

"Artificial intelligence: The Next Step in Evolution or The End of Man?" Oliver reads. "Sounds... compelling?"

"Don't get me started, if I have to read another essay about how Skynet could really be a thing someday I'm just going to fail everyone and call it a day."

He rubs her shoulders a few silent moments longer before speaking again. "So, do you think maybe we should talk about last night?" he says, trying to sound as casual as possible. she spins around on the barstool, facing him. "I mean I know we kind of skirted the issue this morning."

"Is there an issue?"

"No, of course not, last night was great, I was just wondering what exactly does it mean for us?"

She swivels back and forth on the stool a little, a mischievous grin on her face, and she reaches for his shirt, grabbing him and and pulling him forward.

"What do you want it to mean?" she says, leaning up to kiss the stubble on his jaw.

"Well, I like you, a lot," he says as she continues to lightly kiss him. "And I think you like me, in spite of... things."

"Yeah, you're okay," she says.

She giggles and kisses him on the mouth. It gets heated fast, and any reservations he came in with are lost as he hoists her off the barstool and onto the counter top.

"We're still taking things slow right?" he says.

"Yup."

"How slow?"

"Second base in the bedroom? Under the bra?"

"I love that idea."

He picks her up off the counter and walks her toward her bedroom. He'll probably be fashionably late for Sara's party but he likes to think she'll forgive him, considering how much she openly complained about Isobel, him moving on to someone she considered completely adorable could only be a plus. He lays her down on the bed and they kiss each other, knocking her embroidered pillows off of the bed.

"Oliver, you're vibrating," She says as his hand creeps under her bra.

"Yeah you do that to me."

"No, I mean it, your ass is vibrating," She says, reaching into his back pocket and fishing out his phone. She reads the screen. "It's Sara."

"Shit," Oliver says under his breath before answering.

"Hey Sara, Happy Birthday," he says, forcing a smile that he hopes reaches his voice.

"Ollie, where are you? Everybody's here."

"What do you mean? It's seven O'clock, the party doesn't start for another hour."

"Guess again, we changed it to six, didn't Nyssa tell you?"

"You're assuming Nyssa ever tells me anything."

"Well how fast can you get here? Digg's making ribs."

He rubs his forehead in frustration. "I'll be fast, just hang tight."

"Oliver, what's going on?" Felicity says.

"Ollie, who is that, are you with somebody right now?" Sara says, she's been on the other side of this call before. The last time she inadvertently cockblocked him he was with Isobel and she was quite proud of herself.

"No, it's just Felicity."

"Felicity, huh? I've been meaning to ask how that was going."

 _Great until you called_ , he thinks to himself. He has no right to be bitter, he knows that, but it's difficult not to be with Felicity under him, wearing that expectant look.

"Listen, I'll be there in 20 okay," Oliver says, quickly changing the subject.

"Hey, why don't you bring her?"

_Goddammit Sara_

"No I mean she has papers to grade and-

"My ears are burning," Felicity interjects again.

"Sara, let me call you back," he says, pressing end before she can protest.

"So I'm guessing you need a rain check." Felicity says.

"Sorry, it's just, it's Sara's birthday tonight and she changed the time."

"I see, so what's this business about me having papers to grade? I think I can put those off long enough to celebrate the birthday of one of my most cherished casual acquaintances."

"Trust me, you don't want to go to this thing, you won't know anyone."

"I know you, and Sara, and I also heard something about ribs."

"I can always bring you a plate."

"What's up with you? Why don't you want me to go?"

Should he tell her? It's probably the only way out of this one. As much as he likes Felicity, there are certain things that she simply can't know, not yet. It was hard enough for her to see past his misdeeds from ten years ago.

"Well, Laurel will be there and-

"Okay, now I have to go to this thing."

"Felicity-

"Give me two minutes I just need to freshen my lipstick and grab a sweater."

She's up before he can say another word.

She wonders out loud during the drive if she should bring something for Sara, he assures her it isn't necessary but she babbles nervously about it until he stops for an Edible Arrangement. He can't blame her, he's nervous too, and it hits him tenfold when they arrive.

"Sara!" Felicity says brightly, greeting her with a hug and her last minute gift.

"Felicity, so good to see you when you're not wishing death on our spin teacher."

"Assume I'm always wishing death on our spin teacher."

"Something we have in common. Anyway, thank you so much for the gift, and Oliver, so nice of you to finally show up."

"Yeah, sorry about that, and I'm sure Nyssa's sorry too, aren't you Nyssa? He calls out to her. She's currently at the counter stirring chives into the dip. She simply glances over to him in obvious amusement.

Sara didn't lie, everyone is already here. Thea and Roy are dancing with each other to the song blasting out of the speaker, they've presumably made up for now. Lyla is relaxing on the couch, a slice of birthday cake resting on her pregnant belly. Sara and Laurel's mom and dad are having one of their comfortably civil divorced couple chats by the window, through which Diggle is manning the pit and laughing boisterously at whatever joke Cindy, Sara's across the hall neighbor is telling.

There are a few other people Oliver doesn't recognize or has only met a couple of times, but even among the decent crowd of people Laurel immediately stands out; soft, caramel hued waves, sun-kissed skin, big gray eyes, thinly veiled pissed off look at the sight of him. He sees her from time to time, it goes with the territory of being his best friend's sister. It's usually civil enough, a snarky comment here and there is typically the worst of it, but with Felicity by his side he's still a pile of nerves. He wonders if he should hold her hand or how he should introduce her, "Hi this is Felicity, she's my roommate and we've heavily made out twice now," doesn't seem quite right.

He introduces Felicity around the room, deciding to go with roommate, she doesn't appear to protest. Wherever he goes Laurel seems to go in the opposite direction, a definite relief. He notices her talking to a handsome Latino man he's never met before, more than talking actually, at one point her hand is on his shoulder, another time she's giggling as he whispers something into her ear.

"Looking awful hard there," Felicity whispers over to him. "Let me guess, that's Laurel?"

"Yeah, that's her," he admits.

"Well you should say hi, I mean you might as well, you both have to be here. Besides I'm sure everything that went down between you guys is just water under the bridge, she seems pretty into that incredibly hot guy she's chatting up."

"I wouldn't call him incredibly hot."

"Oh my god, are you jealous of that searingly attractive and likely very charming Latino man," Felicity says. She's teasing, yet he can hear her voice quake just a little at the thought.

"Of course not," Oliver says, his hand finding hers. She squeezes it back and they just stand in silence for a second.

"What's this?" Digg says as he enters. He's still in his apron when he comes in from the balcony, bringing the nice smell of burning charcoal in with him.

"Sensei Digg, this is Felicity, Felicity, Sensei Digg," Oliver says, still holding her hand.

"Or you can call me John like a normal person,"

"Very nice to meet you Sensei John," Felicity says with a giggle.

"Yeah, I give up, very nice to meet you too Felicity, I've heard a lot of good things."

Felicity's eyebrows go up a little. It's true, Diggle has heard a lot of good things, because whenever they're together Oliver brings her up in some capacity without really meaning to "Felicity made me watch _Moulin Rouge_ with her last night, I refuse to tell her I liked it." "Felicity is collecting donations for this inner city computer science education program she volunteers for, any ideas?" "Do those Brownies have nuts, I want to bring some home but Felicity's allergic." She doesn't know though, she has no idea that she even figures into his day when they aren't together. He gets it now, she was so down about Barry showing up at the con with Iris, talking about his new friends and new life in Central City, he can't help but to feel a little like a jerk for considering leaving her at home. He promised to make up for all of the wrong he had done when he was younger, be a friend to her, be a part of her world. But maybe being a part of her world wasn't enough, maybe it was time to start making her a part of his.

She talks to Diggle with easy amicability and she asks a lot of questions, whether the baby is going to be a boy or a girl and what they're naming it, whether running the dojo across town puts him at constant odds with Oliver, whether he's ever been to a con (she suggests that a John Stewart Cosplay would be perfection on him). As they talk he feels free to move about the party, greeting his sister, talking with Sara more, having a drink or two, and continuing to avoid Laurel, which she makes mercifully easy. When he circles back toward Felicity she's on the couch with Lyla, gushing over the sonogram picture she keeps on her phone. He's seen it, the baby looks a bit like a creepy green alien in it but Felicity seems to think it's adorable. He smiles at the sight of her bonding so easily with his friends and feels no qualms about stepping out onto the balcony to get some air and another coke, making sure to give her a nod so she knows where he'll be.

He doesn't see her there at first, it's way past dark and she's leaned against the corner of the wrought iron gate surrounding the fire escape, the only light present is emanating from the moon, the weakly smoldering coals left in the barbecue pit, and the glow at the end of her cigarette. She doesn't smoke much, only socially really, or when she's sad about something. Right now he has an idea of which one it is.

"Oh sorry I didn't mean-

"It's okay, you don't have to leave," she says, cutting him off before he can turn back around.

"I'm sorry, I know we haven't had much chance to talk lately."

"I can't imagine why we would, I mean, we aren't exactly Laurel and Ollie anymore."

"Yeah, I guess not."

"Just as well. She seems nice, whoever she is."

"Felicity, she's Felicity, and yeah, she's nice."

"Not too nice I hope."

He exhales sharply at the implication. He knows what she means, he can't really protest.

"Ted asked me out tonight," she continues. "To be honest I've been sort of expecting it. We've been dancing around each other for months but we've never really just went for it, you know."

"Ted, he's the..."

"The cute one, yeah."

"Well that's great right? He seems nice and you know, you seem to like him, or from what I've seen tonight."

"I do like him, a lot actually." She takes a long drag of her cigarette and flicks the glowing ashes off of the edge of the balcony. "Didn't stop me from turning him down."

He doesn't ask why, he doesn't have to, there could only be one reason, she wouldn't even be telling him any of this if that weren't the case.

"When am I going to just be able to move on from him?" she continues, her voice choked. "I mean, it happened so long ago, and you know I'm better now. I don't drink, I'm doing great at the firm, me and my family are finally close again. I have everything together and it's like I still refuse to let myself be happy. Even you can do that."

"Laurel I-

"I know, I shouldn't be putting any of this on you, I mean, you lost him too. You lost everything and you can still open yourself up. I guess I'm sort of jealous of that."

This is new, Laurel hasn't spoken to him like a human being in years, although he can't help but to consider the fact that she's talking to herself more than him.

"Laurel, I am so sorry. I know I've said it a thousand times but it's still as true as it ever was, truer in fact. You were great and you never deserved what I did to you."

He notices a ghost of a smile on her face as she finally looks at him.

"I know you're sorry Ollie. I've always known."

"I know this isn't my place at all, but this guy, Ted, I think maybe you should give him a chance. I mean, if that's what you want. If you aren't ready you aren't ready, but if the reason you're smoking that cigarette right now is because you feel like you've missed out on something with him, you can't think to yourself that it's too late."

She stubs out the cigarette on the railing and tosses it among the glowing coals in the pit. "Maybe a coffee wouldn't be too much? I mean, if he likes coffee, I think he might. Or do you think a movie would be better? Everybody likes movies, don't they?"

"Coffee is a great start."

She takes a deep breath, smoothing the front of her coral silk blouse and fluffing her hair. "Okay, wish me luck."

"You don't need it, but good luck."

She ducks past him through the window, but before climbing completely through it she turns once to face him.

"I hope you know I still hate you." She says.

"I'm aware," she smiles once more and disappears back into the room.

As he drives him home at the end of the night, she barely notices his silence. He was worried about nothing, even Nyssa was nothing but sweet to her, although she did let it slip about the one time Oliver somehow got locked out of the house in nothing but his socks back in college, a story he's always known on some level that Sara had shared with her. Felicity thankfully took the whole thing in in stride and was nothing but warm and lovely throughout the party. So much so that Sara invited her out for Karaoke the following weekend, an outing that has her too excited to let Oliver get a word in edgewise on the drive home. It's just as well, he couldn't talk even if he wanted to. This is real, this is happening, and he has to tell her the truth, the whole truth, about Laurel, about Tommy, about everything, but the longer she talks the longer he can avoid his own necessary but painful words.

"So what do you think?"

"What do I think about what?" Oliver answers.

"Have you been listening? What do you think about me and Sara singing Madonna? Do you think it's a good idea or is Madonna more of a second friend date thing?"

"I say go for the Madonna."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she says excitedly. "Oliver... are you okay?" she continues after a few silent moments.

He doesn't respond as he pulls the car off the road, making the gravel pop under the tires.

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something's been wrong for years," Oliver says sadly. "Felicity. I want to be honest with you, about me, about everything. I want you to know me, for everything that I am."

"I want to know you Oliver," she says quietly.

"Then you should know what happened to Tommy Merlyn."

"Tommy from Starling City Prep, I always assumed he moved and maybe you saw each other on Holidays or something."

"He died Felicity, a few years ago."

"Oh my god, Oliver, I'm so, so sorry. How, I mean, how did it happen?"

"After I slept with Sara and Laurel broke up with me, Tommy and Laurel started to grow closer. He was kind of a shoulder for her, and I accepted it, I even encouraged it, because I was so guilty I felt like I owed it to her you know, to step aside and let them have whatever it was they had you know. It's just, I never knew that what they had was more than just friendship. I never knew that he loved her, and that after awhile, she loved him too."

"So they were a couple?"

"Yeah, and I know I had no reason to be upset or blame them for any of it but I was young and a complete idiot and I couldn't see past my own pain, so I shut Tommy out of my life, I refused to speak to him, even when he begged me, even when he tried so hard to make things right. He said that he never meant for it to happen, that he couldn't help the way he felt and he never meant to hurt me, and I knew that it was true, that none of it was about me. It didn't matter, none of that mattered, not even the night he called me, crying on the phone. He had broken up with her, he told her that he couldn't sacrifice our friendship no matter how much he cared for Laurel.

I could tell that he was miserable about the decision, he'd been drinking that night and he told me that Laurel didn't want to speak to him ever again. He wanted me to pick him up so we could talk, and I knew I should have gone to him then and there, told him to work things out with her, to forget about me, but I didn't. I still felt so betrayed that he'd gone behind my back that I wouldn't forgive him even then. I hung up the phone and went to sleep. And the next day Laurel called me, hysterical, she told me that Tommy had been in an accident. I didn't pick him up that night and he got behind the wheel and wrapped his car around a telephone pole."

He can't say anymore. He's never cried in front of Felicity, but he can't help it now, not even as she takes him into her arms, rubbing his back and telling him that it's okay, that it wasn't his fault.

"I couldn't face her, he continues, his voice muffled as he cries into Felicity's shirt, I couldn't face any of them. So I left, I went to China and I didn't come back until mom died, I couldn't."

"It wasn't your fault Oliver," she repeats. "You were hurt, you were a kid."

"I was a fool."

"You're an amazing man, and if you can't see that then you are a fool," she says with a smile.

"I don't deserve you."

"Of course you don't, " she jokes. "But it doesn't matter, you've got me. Let's go home. I can drive if you want."

"Thank you Felicity."

He'll take it as slow as she wants, he'll wait for her forever if he has to.


	10. Chapter 10

She’s just going to have to admit it. She wants to have sex, desperately. They’ve been doing an admirable job of taking things slow, not giving into baser temptations. Because the first time they kissed Felicity didn’t know if things were going to work out, or if they even could. But things have been more than working out. She still can’t get over how much fun they have together doing nothing but vegging out on the couch, or cooking breakfast, or making out furiously against every surface of the apartment. But she wants more now, and when Oliver comes home from the bar tonight, she’ll be waiting. It helps that she’s officially killed the batteries in her Hitachi magic wand.

She doesn’t want to look like she’s actively trying to seduce him. She goes for her dolphin shorts, white t-shirt sans bra, and bare feet with shiny red toenails. She looks sexy without looking like she’s trying too hard too hard to look sexy. At 3 o clock in the morning there’s no need for trying too hard. Although she does take her glasses off.  
When he comes through the door, looking tired but not too tired, she’s on the couch, her cheek propped up on her knuckles, one knee dipped in front of the other, her body a soft curve for running a firm hand over.

“How was work?” she says.

“Um, good,” he says. “Busy.”

“You look beat,” she says, she wonders if she sounds disappointed.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot we were supposed to watch the new Walking Dead together. Don’t worry I’m off until 2 tomorrow, let me just make some coffee and-

“Actually, I think The Walking dead can probably wait, don’t you?” She gets up from the couch and saunters over to him, hooking her finger under his tie to pull it loose. When she kisses him there’s a promise of more beneath it.

“Wait a second,” he says, pulling away from her. “Is this really happening?”

She thinks taking her shirt off is a good enough answer to that question.

“Jesus Christ,” he says under his breath. He’s practically drooling at the sight of her.

“So I’ll be in my room, do with that what you will,” She says, stepping over her fallen T shirt and starting toward her room. She looks over her shoulder once to see him standing there, stupefied, and she enters the bedroom. She can hear him coming after her, the thud of his shoes falling on the ground and the click of his belt buckle. She sits down on her bed and he comes in after her.

“You are so beautiful it isn’t fair,” he says. She tucks her finger under his waistband and yanks him forward. They land back on the pillows, him on top, and they kiss with both the grabby enthusiasm of horny teenagers, and the finesse of the practiced adults they are. She shimmies down her dolphin shorts to give him better access to her panties, suddenly tight, stifling and screaming to be ripped the fuck off. He obliges, sliding them down her legs with the slow seductiveness he nearly forgot to employ. She doesn't wax it all off, he notices, it's dark like her eyebrows and nicely trimmed, and he wants it in his mouth.

"Holy shit," she exclaims in a sort of laughing, gasping moan as he spreads her legs and slowly licks away the first tangy, sweet droplets of anticipation. Her fitful giggling dissolves into soft, sharp mewling noises as he continues listening and feeling closely, licking and sucking her in whatever way the tightness of her body or the sounds of her moans urges him to.

"Up more, yeah, where you were," she yells like a panicked backseat driver preventing a wrong left turn. He glides his flat tongue up and down in the specified direction, softly and slowly at first, increasing in speed and depth with a rhythm closely mimicking that of her escalating breaths, and she thanks him for the attention with a loud, blissful cry.

"Fuck, Oliver fucking fuck me now," she curses hurriedly. She never swears this much, she isn't a puritan or anything but something about being properly eaten out really brings out the f-bombs. He tells her he wants to fuck her now, quite possibly more than he's ever wanted to fuck anyone, he’s so hard and she's still so wet and only one thing can take care of that. He removes his own shirt and kisses his way up her body, once again tense and wanting, and against every protest of his painfully hard cock, he takes his time. He kisses her open mouth as he undoes his pants, kicking them off onto the floor.

"Yes, please Oliver," she pleads as he finally takes one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it hard then softly, one then the other. She scratches his bristly head with her nails, wraps her welcoming thighs around his torso, and lets him go to town, the feel of his scratchy beard competing with the soft wetness of his lips and tongue makes her shiver and pant harder and faster with every mounting second. He releases her nipple and kisses her once again as he pulls down his underwear, freeing himself.

"Your balls," she says, taking time away from kissing to get her first look at his carefully manscaped package, a nice one, she thinks. "I've always wondered why you owned a razor."

His seductive gaze cracks with unintentional laughter at the comment. But she silences it with another kiss and gets him onto his back. Climbing onto his lap, she’s readier for him than ever.

"You have protection right?" She whispers into his kiss.

"You mean, you don't?" Oliver asks, his eyes going wide.

Fuck

"Dammit Oliver you're the manwhore, why don't you have condoms?"

"What makes you think I'm a manwhore?"

She crosses her arms over her bare chest and raises a snarky eyebrow at him.

"I kind of ran out," he admits shamefully. "That was before you though."

"I have never hated you more than I do right now Oliver Queen," she says, rolling her eyes. "Thank god you give good head."

“Well I was going to get some once we started, you know, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Yeah, I know, I mean, I probably should have taken the initiative myself. But I kind of hate buying condoms. The grocery store has the world's worst selection and the woman at the CVS always gives me the bitchiest looks.”

“Well, I can go tomorrow.”

She climbs off of his lap with an exasperated sigh and grabs him by the knees, turning him into a sitting position on her bed.

"What are you doing?" he says suspiciously as she settles on her knees in front of him.

"Saying my prayers before bedtime, what the hell do you think?" she says, grabbing ahold of his erection. "You don't have any STDS I should know about right?"

"Um, no, clean as a whistle," he says with a questioning inflection in his voice.

"Good," she says with a shrug before taking him into her mouth, and holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

"Jesus, Felicity," he croaks as she slides up and down his cock, sucking him hard and hotly, he has to remind her to do this with her glasses on next time, and fuck does he hope there's a next time, several in fact. He makes a tight fist, pressing it against his furrowed brow and reminds himself to breath. She's attentive and efficient, she sucks dick like solving a complicated math problem, and she was always so damn good at that.

"Oh shit I'm going to come, I'm going to come," he chokes out through teeth clenched down on his knuckles, she doesn't let go though, there's a pretty nice duvet cover at stake. When he finishes into her mouth she immediately reaches for the empty vase on the nightstand and spits calmly into it.

"Sorry, I don't swallow," she says. Getting up and sitting down next to him, but he's too spent to care.

"That was so amazing," he says, catching his breath after taking a few moments to collect himself. 

“I’m glad you approve,” she says, cuddling up next to him. He kisses her hair. “So... Walking Dead?”

“Totally.”

****  
Felicity wasn’t just being paranoid about the woman at the CVS. Buying condoms hasn't been even vaguely embarrassing for him since his teens, but she definitely gave him a look. He got the kind that feel good for the girl, his was the condom purchase of a man who had it bad. Felicity will probably make a joke about it, in fact he may have gotten them for that specific purpose, there's something so inherently affectionate about the way she busts his balls now that he almost craves it.

He comes home, tossing his keys on the coffee table like usual, along with the CVS bag with the bright pink package just visible through the translucent plastic. She's sitting at the kitchen counter, twisting back and forth on the stool, eyeing him mischievously.

"Please tell me that CVS bag contains what I think it contains," she says.

"I remembered," he grabs her at the waist and kisses her, but before long she slips off of the barstool past him and he immediately misses the soft feel of her under his hands.

"Ribbed for my pleasure, aww, what a gentleman," She jokes, reading the package.

"I thought you'd like it."

Back in high school, he wouldn’t have guessed for a second that he’d end up here, with Felicity, about to make passionate, soft focus love to her. He’d never used the term making love before, not even with Laurel, but with Felicity it just seems sort of right. Work starts in three hours, in an ideal situation he’d fall asleep with her after, but he’ll be sure to do that tonight when he comes home to her. Now though, she seems fine with just the sex. There's nothing stopping them now, not even Oliver's still all over the place emotions from after the party, if anything finally putting it all out there had a cathartic effect, and Felicity holding him and telling him that it was okay, that she didn't blame him, only made the urge to be closer to her that much stronger.

He lifts her up and she wraps her arms around him, kissing him deep and slow.

“I’ve wanted this ever since I first saw you again,” he whispers into her ear, making her shiver. 

“You have?”

“Like crazy,” he says. She’s against the wall now, he kisses her and grinds against her, revving her up, making her moan softly.

“I’ve wanted this ever since you rocked blue paint for me,” she says. He laughs and kisses her neck, tickling her. He starts toward the bedroom, it’s happening, if he doesn’t get her naked again soon he’s going to lose it.

He nearly cusses out loud when the doorbell rings.

“Is it useless of me to ask you to ignore that?” he says.

“Sorry, it could be that package from the tech school I’ve been expecting,” she looks as annoyed as he feels, but she gives him one quick, soft kiss as a kind of reward for his patience, and untangles her legs from around his torso. She looks through the peephole and seems confused by what she sees.

It isn’t a package.

“Um, can I help you,” she says as she answers the door.

He looks toward where she's looking, at the leggy brunette standing in their front door. This isn't possible, not now. Her being here is by a large margin the worst thing that could happen right now barring the apartment being robbed, actually, the longer he stands there and the more he realizes that he isn't hallucinating, the more he thinks that maybe a robbery would have been preferable.

"Isobel," he says in almost a whisper, he smooths his disturbed hair and wipes the traces of Felicity’s raspberry gloss off of his lips.

"Oliver," she says, her voice like an ice cold martini tossed in his face. "I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

"Oliver, who is this?" Felicity says.

"I'm Isobel Rochev, I'm Oliver's girlfriend."

**Stay Tuned Folks!**


	11. Chapter 11

_She got a top notch education from Starling City Prep, the best in the country, one that would guarantee her a spot at the college of her choosing. In spite of its myriad charms in theory, in practice she sometimes found herself looking hard for silver linings, for reasons to refrain from making that tearful call back home, begging her mother to come rescue her. One of those reasons was the icy cold, steady stream of water provided by the fountains in every hallway, much better than the warm, lazy trickle of the one fountain available at her old high school._

_It wasn't much of a happy place, but considering she was the only student who couldn't afford the bottled variety from the vending machines, it was her happy place nonetheless, that is if she could enjoy it without being spotted by Helena Bertanelli. That day was not one of those days, and Felicity didn't have to look up to see who had dunked her head into the arcing path of freezing cold water too quickly for her to let the button go before getting a healthy earful. She had watched for her so carefully that time._

_Helena Bertanelli, the quintessential evil cheerleader, the Chris Hargensen to Oliver's Billy Nolan. With her eyes and her skin and her Nancy Sinatra walk and her 900 number voice, there was no way she was going to make it through high school without the shiniest of crowns set atop her flowing Pantene commercial hair, no matter how big of a bitch she was to anyone who looked at her wrong, or even right. If Oliver had never walked the halls of Starling City Prep, Helena alone would have made absolute sure that Felicity's time there was like something out of Screech Powers' personal memoirs, and the drinking fountain waterboarding was one of her favorite pastimes._

_"Hey Fuglicity," Helena said, letting her up. As always She should have said something, anything, but she all of a sudden couldn't remember the response she had prepared in case she ended up in that situation again._

_"What is this?" Helena said angrily, backing Felicity up against the locker before she could speak, one hand was on her hip, the other was grasping a paper with a red A minus in the corner._

_"Last week's history test?" Felicity mumbled._

_"Yes, last week's history test, the one I fully expected to get an A plus on, what is the point of being constantly subjected to your mouth breathing by sitting next to you if I can't even get an A plus copying. I thought you were smart Fuglicity."_

_"You copied my test?" Felicity said angrily, apparently not even stealing exams from Holt was enough for the psychos who ran the school._

_"Don't you dare raise your voice to me, don't you get it? I own you, and I can destroy you. Do better next time moron," she crumpled the test up and tossed it at Felicity, bouncing it off of the bridge of her glasses. Felicity couldn't get another word in before Helena spun around angrily, smacking her in the face with her cheerleader ponytail before marching off in a rage. Slowing only to meet Oliver at the end of the hall, push him hard against his locker and kiss him as if she was trying to devour his soul, succubus that she was._

Isobel has the kind of face that makes women nervous and men stupid. Her features are fine, elegant, and sharp, and her dark gaze suggests that it alone could pick you apart limb from limb until you're a bloody heap on the floor. It's how Felicity feels now, effortlessly picked apart by this woman claiming to be Oliver's girlfriend, the woman who's mere presence made the unfailingly confident Oliver verbally stumble over his own feet.

"I'm sorry, girlfriend?" Felicity says after a silence too long for anyone's comfort.

"That's right," Isobel says. "And you are?"

"This is Felicity, she's my roommate," _roommate_ , somehow the word cuts a lot more than it did back at the party. "And Isobel, I'm sorry but you really shouldn't be here right now, I mean I didn't even know you were coming, you haven't called me in weeks I thought..."

"Thought what, that we were on a break?" Isobel replies with bitter amusement. She saunters into the apartment as she speaks, a panther in five inch stilettos. "Oh honey, you know I didn't mean what I said back at the apartment, I was just so stressed out about the whole Russia thing and the thought of missing you so much I said some things I really didn't mean, things I desperately wish I could take back." Her expertly manicured fingers are now creeping up his tense shoulders, her kohl rimmed eyes are seductively narrowed. She smells like Oleander, Felicity notices. Poison, figures. It takes a little longer than she'd like for Oliver's obvious discomfort to visibly dissolve into obvious anger, still, Felicity perks just the tiniest bit as he quickly swipes Isobel's hands out of the way.

"Ooh, so feisty," Isobel purrs.

"So let me get this straight, what she's saying is true, she's your girlfriend?" Felicity says.

"She was my girlfriend," Oliver clarifies. "Or at least that was my word for it, you on the other hand never seemed to have much interest in that label."

"Only because what we have transcends labels, you know that," Isobel says.

"Isobel, please, now is really not the time, as you can see I'm with someone," Oliver says.

"Yeah, your roommate," Isobel says. 

"My roommate who I happen to care about and who doesn't deserve to hear this right now."

He's sincere, nothing in his face suggests he wants to see her right now, and when he said he cared for Felicity he said it with admirable conviction. As a woman who has witnessed her fair share of misunderstandings in her 28 years, she is well aware of what they look like. This is a misunderstanding, plain and simple. They'll send Isobel away, and talk the whole thing out, over French toast, Oliver makes magnificent French toast, crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside, great with peach jam.

"Oliver you really don't need-

"Oh I get it," Isobel sings cruelly. "You thought you'd take your little hissy fit out on some new tail is that it? It's okay, I forgive you, this one looks like punishment enough."

She's really going to miss that French toast.

"I'm sorry, new tail!" Felicity erupts. "Oliver we need to talk."

His jaw is tense and his eyes are on fire as he takes one last look at Isobel, still relishing the damage she's caused in a matter of minutes.

"I'll just wait right here," Isobel says, stepping back into the hallway, fully unscathed by Oliver's death stare, entertained by it even.

She needs a drink, it's only eleven in the morning, but whatever, she's off today. She nearly drops the beer she grabs from the fridge as she violently twists at the top , exhaling in frustration when she realizes it's not a twist off. She grabs her Millenium Falcon bottle opener refrigerator magnet off of the freezer door but drops it .

"Did you need hel-

"I can do it!" she exclaims, interrupting Oliver before picking up the opener, she pops the top off and downs half the bottle in one go as he stands there awkwardly.

"Felicity-

"Did I say you could talk to me?" She cuts him off angrily, setting the beer down.

"Well, I thought that's what you meant by 'we need to talk.'"

"Oh so you're just a regular expert on communication now? Funny since you failed miserably to mention the fact that you had a girlfriend when you moved here."

"Could you please just let me explain?"

"Is she the maybe Oliver?" Felicity says.

"What do you mean?"

"The girl you were maybe in love with after Laurel, is she the maybe?"

"I wasn't in love with her."

"But you thought you might have been, hence the maybe, now tell me was she or was she not the maybe."

In the pause that follows Felicity assumes that about 14 people around the world have died, if he doesn't answer soon she might have to contribute to that number.

"She was the maybe," he admits shamefully.

"Oh my god, _her_ , seriously?"

"Felicity-

"Laurel I get, Laurel is nice, Laurel asked me if I needed another soda when she went to get one at the party, that girl in the hallway? She would never in a million years ask if I needed another soda, she would have no consideration whatsoever for my carbonated beverage needs."

"Felicity-

"Did you see the way she looked at me, she looked like she wanted to mount my head on her wall, oh my god she has mounted heads on her wall doesn't she?"

"Felicity, you're being-

"I am not being crazy!"

"I wasn't going to say that," he says calmly. He walks up to her, his hands raised as if he wants to place them on her arms, but she backs up, shaking her head.

"I just can't believe you ever dated her," Felicity says, trying hard not to let the tears slip.

"I know, believe me, I know. It's just, after my mom died and I came back I felt so alone, and Isobel, she was there for me but I get it now that wasn't love, it was-

"I'm not talking about Isobel," Felicity interrupts, forcing the words past the hard lump in her throat. "I'm talking about Helena."

He looks confused, she doesn't blame him. She's confused too.

"Helena Bertanelli, from High School?" Oliver says. "You're mad at me because of who I dated ten years ago?"

"No!" She snaps, the tears finally breaking free. "I'm mad at you because of who you were ten years ago, and I tried, I tried so hard not to be because I know how unfair it is to keep holding all of that stuff against you when you've been nothing but kind and wonderful to me. And maybe it's not you at all, maybe it's me, maybe I just can't separate the two, not when you have leggy, bitchy girls that you never told me about, that you may have loved coming to my house insulting me to my face."

"So this is about Isobel?"

"This is about us, this thing that we're doing isn't working, it was never going to work and I was a complete idiot for ever thinking that it could."

"It does work Felicity, we work, you've seen us work."

"Yeah we worked for a whole month and a half until she showed up, how long is it going to take until I'm once again reminded of the fact that I just can't trust you to be good."

He doesn't let her back away again, he takes a quick step forward, throwing his arms around her, holding her solidly in spite of a bit of halfhearted thrashing on her part.

"I'm sorry Felicity, I'm so sorry."

"You promised," she cries into his shirt. "You promised you wouldn't hurt me."

"I know," he replies, rubbing her back up and down.

"It was unfair for me to ask that of you Oliver," she says quietly, still in his arms. "Just being who you are hurts me."

"Felicity."

"I want you to move out."  
****

Thea's still in her work clothes, it makes him feel a little better about coming to her at one in the morning with a suitcase. He tried to talk to Felicity, he tried for nearly an hour, she wouldn't come out of her room this time, and before long he had to leave for work. He had no desire to talk to Isobel, not even upon finding her still waiting in the hall when he finally emerged with his overnight bag in tow. He told her if she wanted to talk she could call him in the morning, he was too afraid of what he might say if he confronted her right away. She obliged without much conflict, clearly pleased with the outcome of her impromptu visit.

When Felicity said she wanted him out she didn't specify that it had to be the same day, but giving her a little space seemed like the right call, maybe if he came back in a day or so she'd be ready to talk.

"You poor bastard," Thea says with an affectionate smile as she steps aside to let him into the small apartment she shares with Roy. "Do I want to ask what happened?"

"Isobel happened," Oliver says, dropping his bag in the corner with a thud.

"Oh God no, she's back? How can she be back? She was gone and the world was a better place for it."

"I know, I wasn't expecting her to just show up, she was supposed to be in Russia for four months I figured I'd deal with all of that when she got back."

"Ooh," She flinches in secondhand embarrassment. "Not smart big brother."

"I'm well aware of that."

He takes a seat at her kitchen counter, setting his elbows upon the cool tile and pressing his fingers against his throbbing temples while Thea opens her refrigerator door, flooding the small nook with light and fishing out two beers. She pops the tops off of them and tips one of the skinny bottles toward him.

"Want one?" she says, raising her eyebrows in expectation.

"I'll have one, but what's that other one for?" He tries not to sound judgmental, but clearly fails by the glowering look she gives him. "Roy! Beer!" she cries toward the back room. He shuffles in wordlessly, grabbing the bottle from her, pressing a light kiss to her cheek, nodding once toward Oliver and shuffling back into the room, taking a long swig along the way.

"I guess it's still habit at this point," she says with a shrug, reaching into the cabinet and grabbing her mug, electing for tea instead.

"I'm really proud of you Thea, I hope you know that," he says warmly.

"I know you are," She says, lighting a fire underneath the pale blue kettle. "And I was proud of you too until a few minutes ago. Isobel, really?"

"I know, don't you think I know? She's horrible, I get that, the thing is I didn't get it before, not until..."

"Felicity?"

He takes the first sip of cold beer, preparing himself for what he has to say. "When I was with Laurel, I never thought I deserved her, I mean, she was this amazing girl with a bright future who just wanted to help everybody, and I was this selfish dick who only ever looked out for himself. And I knew, I knew it was only a matter of time before I did something to screw it up, and I was just so on edge all the time waiting for the anvil to drop that it got to a point where the waiting just got to be too much."

"So you decided not to delay what you considered to be the inevitable?"

"I guess you could say that, yeah."

"Okay, I'll admit what happened with Laurel wasn't great, but being with Isobel was never the answer."

"I know that now, but before, when I was with her, I was never afraid of hurting her."

"Are you sure you weren't just punishing yourself?"

He chuckles at the comment, taking another sip of his beer. "I was ready to be alone for awhile, take some time to work on myself, and then, Felicity happened, and I just wasn't expecting her. I wasn't expecting how much I would feel with her. And the thing is, I knew that I couldn't hurt her either, and not because she's like Isobel, not because she's incapable of being hurt, but because from the second I saw her again I knew that I would do whatever it took to make her happy. That's the thing though, I'm not the guy that can make a girl like Felicity happy, I'm the guy that hurts people."

"That is not true Ollie," Thea says firmly. "You didn't ask Isobel to show up and be all... Isobel."

"No matter what I do my past is always going to come back to bite me in the ass."

"Hey," she says, grabbing his ear and forcing him to look at her. "Felicity will get over this, she will because against her better judgment that girl has it bad for you."

"Thanks, not for the' against her better judgment comment,' but thanks"

She slides off the barstool as the pot begins to whistle and places a bag of chamomile into her mug before pouring the steaming water over it. "You and Felicity will work things out," she says, taking her seat once again, plunging the bag in and out of the hot water. "But first, could you please handle that bitch once and for all, she can only defeat you if she knows you fear her."

"I will, but first, I gotta get some sleep."

"Hey babe, you coming, The Transporter's on on HBO," Roy says, peeking his head into the hallway.

"Please tell me that's not some sort of euphemism," Oliver groans.

"No, it's just a stupid action movie, I'm going to go, you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Oliver says. "I think I will."

****

Isobel sits primly at the coveted table near the narrow, floor to ceiling window of the cafe, he almost didn't come, he nearly elected to end things once and for all over the phone, not exactly tactful, but Isobel has hardly been tactful herself lately, or ever. He all but drags his feet as he makes his way across the polished hardwood to the brushed chrome table. He won't order coffee, not even ice water, he wants to be in and out as quickly as possible. His shift at the bar starts in half an hour, the perfect out. He sinks into the chair slowly as if it may burn him. Once he's seated he's still not entirely sure if his weight is being fully supported by the seat alone.

"You're late," she says in her icy voice.

"You're perceptive," he replies, equally cold. "What could we possibly have to talk about now? I think I made it pretty clear last night that this isn't working for me anymore, I'm not sure if it ever was."

Her expression doesn't change, she doesn't say a word as she brings her latte up to her shapely, lacquered mouth and takes an audible sip from the pristine white mug, leaving a bit of lipstick behind that she discreetly wipes away with one thumb.

"Are you finished?" she replies.

"Yes, unless you have something more to say I see no reason to stick around."

"Oh I think you do, a very good one in fact."

"What are you talking about?"

She remains silent as she reaches into the slick black attache case next to her chair and pulls out a stack of papers stapled neatly together, she sets it on the table and slides it forward. He knows what it is immediately.

"This is my father's will," Oliver says in disbelief, flipping through it frantically, looking for some sort of caveat that he can't immediately find. "The original. Where did you get this?"

"One Slade Wilson," Isobel replies. "We ran into each other in Russia, things happened, long story short Vodka and sex is a magical combination. A magical, truth unearthing combination."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

She takes another sip of her coffee, her eyes alight with the amusement gained from watching him squirm in anticipation. She sets the mug down again, once again wiping away the lipstick stain.

"Congratulations Oliver Queen, you're rich again."

**Stay Tuned Folks!**


	12. Chapter 12

"Do not call Oliver, Do not call Oliver, for the love of god do not call Oliver," Felicity repeats to herself as she twirls side to side in her chair, taking advantage of the twenty minute reprieve between classes. She has been living by this mantra for almost a week now, ever since asking Oliver to leave and waking up a little bit disappointed to find that he had. She shook off that weird feeling as immediately as she had gotten it. After all, it was a good thing that he listened and decided to give her a bit of space. Still, he should have called by now, to apologize again, maybe ask to meet up for coffee, talk things out now that she had cooled down, even to arrange to pick up his stuff. He hadn't called though, not once, not even so much as a text had transpired between them. As much as she hated to admit it, the lack of contact was starting to get to her.

 _Did I overreact?_ she kept asking herself, he did seem every bit as blindsided by Isobel as she was, maybe he had fully believed that they were broken up. But as much as she tried to talk herself up and then back down again, she couldn't help but think that him possibly cheating with her wasn't the issue she was upset about. It was the fact that he had been with her in the first place. Seeing Isobel was like some kind of cruel reminder of who Oliver used to be, the guy who so got off on hurting her. 

Maybe she didn't know the woman like he did, but she saw that cold spark of cruelty in her eyes, the same trademark Helena Bertanelli viciousness. Last she had heard Helena ran a battered women's shelter in Gotham, so at least she had learned to channel her, ahem, passion toward healthier pursuits and making amends, while Isobel still clearly allowed her rage to thrive and destroy everything in its wake, and that was the girl that only a few short months ago Oliver claimed to maybe be in love with. If he could love a girl like Isobel how could he possibly love a girl like Felicity? Especially considering everything she had read in the news, about Slade Wilson's indictment, about how Isobel had saved the day. Could it be that the final traces of new Oliver had gone with the news that he was rich again? Is that the reason he hadn't bothered to call? What did he need his stuff for anyway? He could buy all new stuff now. He could find someone new to love too.

 _Not that I even wanted his love_ , she told herself. "I never wanted him to love me, how pathetic would I be if I did? It was just about sex, that's all. He's gorgeous and sexy... and smart and weirdly sweet and adorable and...

"Stop it Smoak, you're better than this."

"Better than what?"

Felicity flinches a little as Ray pokes his head into the room. Ray Palmer, her mortal enemy ever since taking over the computer science and mechanical engineering departments and cutting two of her classes, while having the audacity to ask her out what felt like every week after the fact.

"Sorry, didn't realize I was talking out loud," She says. "What is it Ray?"

She doesn't have to ask, she knows the faculty gala is coming up Friday and Ray is nothing if not tenacious. She gets it, they have so much in common on the surface, both big time nerds that grew into their looks if not necessarily their personalities. And it's not as if she's never been tempted. Ray is probably the best looking guy on the faculty, tall and well built, with doe eyes and an innocent smile that betrays his powerful physique. And he's every bit as smart as he is handsome, yet her pride has always been a difficult thing to overcome, whether it means accepting a date from a guy who put a sizable dent in her career or calling the guy she can't stop thinking about.

"Well, as you know, the faculty Gala is Friday and...

"You wanted to know if I'd go with you?" Felicity guesses.

"Jesus am I really that predictable?" Ray says, flashing that innocent smile.

"At this point? Absolutely."

"Look, I know I'm not your favorite person," Ray says casually, strolling up to her. "But that's why I think you should give me just one chance to prove I'm not the heartless, money grubbing bastard you think I am. Cutting those coding classes really was in the best interest of the program."

"Well it certainly wasn't in the best interest of my bank account, and now that my roommate's moved out..." she trails off, not sure if she can handle talking about Oliver with this guy.

"Felicity, are you okay, you seem kind of-

"Depressed? Sad? Down in the dumps? Pissed off? Livid? Heartbroken? Well thank you for noticing I happen to be all of those things," she says, trying not let her voice quiver.

"Well I'm sure you'll find another roommate."

"Not like him, he was the best, and he had to go and ruin it by being all Oliver," She feels her voice quiver this time.

"Look, let me take you to this thing, we both have to go anyway, we might as well go together right? It'll take your mind off of things."

She blinks hard, trying to force away whatever evidence of her battered emotions threatens to creep out. She's so tired of feeling this way, close to tears over Oliver Queen of all people, certified worst person in the world, once and future bane of her existence, man with no conception of boundaries.

"You know what?" she says. "I would love to."

****

"Do not call Felicity, do not call Felicity, do not call Felicity," Oliver repeats to himself as he wails on the heavy bag in the starling prep gym, blowing off some steam after a special Friday installment of the self defense class he's still committed to coaching for the indefinite future. He was reluctant at first, but the class has become one of the more enjoyable parts of his week, the children are less demanding and more willing to take things slow and step by step than paying customers at the wuquan, who seem to think their first lesson covers the five point palm exploding heart technique. Even today went over relatively well considering how distracted he was by thoughts of Felicity. Beautiful, brilliant, Felicity that he managed to screw things up with. 

He punches the bag harder, pretending it's his own face. He knows he shouldn't be so focused on what went down the week before, considering everything else that has happened. Days and days of dealing with lawyers and paperwork over the forging of his Mother's will, and dodging phone calls from Isobel who didn't seem to grasp the fact that getting his money back wasn't the same thing as getting him back, was taxing enough without having to compete with relentless thoughts of Felicity. For what seems like a lifetime he's wanted nothing more than to get justice against Slade Wilson, to reclaim his family's legacy, and take care of Thea, and even though all of those things have come to pass, he has found little enjoyment in any of it.

Thea looked so happy and beautiful at the celebration the night before, the first night back in the mansion. She promised to stay in school, to continue learning the fundamentals of the business world so she can buy her own nightclub one day. With their fortune reinstated, the money is one thing that won't be an issue, and he's proud of her for wanting to stick it out in college in spite of not technically having a reason to anymore. He told her as much, but even she noticed his heart wasn't completely in it.

"Are you okay, big brother?" She asked him, a soft hand on his shoulder.

"Of course I am, I have the smartest most badass sister in the world," he answered.

"Yeah, you have me, but what about Felicity? Don't pretend like you haven't been thinking about her all night."

He couldn't pretend, and he wanted nothing more than to call her and tell her everything he was feeling, how much he missed her, how much he wanted to make things right. But she asked for space and it was only fair that he give it to her, if she wanted to talk to him she would have called after all.

"Mr Queen," He takes a break from punching the bag to see Dean Holt entering the Gym, arms crossed and straight faced. "Shouldn't you be packing it up by now, don't you have some shallow millennial nonsense to attend to?"

"Just a few more minutes, just blowing off some steam."

"Well we can go a few rounds in the ring if you like."

"I know better than that from last time."

"Just thought I'd ask," Holt says with a shrug. "By the way, you're doing an excellent job, the kids can't even tell that you're in the midst of a deep emotional crisis right now."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not to them, but I have a sort of knack for sensing when people are as close as you are to the ledge. Did you want to talk about it?"

"No thanks."

"Come on, do you know how long it's been since I've gotten to psychoanalyze someone? It was well before lunch, I'm feeling the itch."

Oliver lets out a deep sigh. He knows he shouldn't talk about it, that talking about it will just force him to dwell on it, but at the same time, Holt likely won't leave until he spills what's bothering him, he's not really the type to take no for an answer.

"Well if you must know, my girlfriend, she got really mad at me and now we aren't speaking." He's never referred to Felicity as his girlfriend before, but saying it he can't help but realize how right it sounds, and how wrong it is that he's lost any right he might have had to say it. "And I'm too afraid to call her because I know if I do she's just going to tell me all of the things I already know, that I screwed up, that there's no chance for us anymore."

"Well, how are you supposed to know how Felicity feels if you don't call her?" Holt says. "Maybe she feels the same way but is just waiting for you to make the first step."

"I know, I know I should but... wait, how did you know I meant Felicity?"

"Mr. Queen please, I've lived far too many years to let things like deeply personal information that my acquaintances haven't shared with me in any direct way slip past me. You're doing all this for her, I figured there must be a reason apart from mere repentance."

"Well, yeah, I guess I'm not so selfless these days after all. And I know that's what she's afraid of, that I haven't changed and I can't love her, but I have, and I can... I do... I do, I love her. I love Felicity." He says, more to himself than to Holt. "Yeah, I gotta go."

He doesn't give Holt another chance to say a word before running out of there, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum with every frantic stride.

Stay tuned folks!


	13. Chapter 13

"If Ray Palmer wasn't my mortal enemy before, he certainly is now," Felicity thinks to herself, focusing hard on not scratching the angry red lumps and bumps all over her face, she knows it technically wasn't his fault the gala had been such a disaster. He was a perfect gentleman the whole night. He picked her up right on time, looking especially handsome in his finely tailored gray suit, no tie, and a bouquet of thirty lilies that she could barely fit into her vase. She tried not to blush in embarrassment when she poured the water in, remembering the last thing she had used it for.

She had considered going low key herself, a simple pantsuit, sensible, straight hair, no contacts, but for some reason the idea of looking her best that night made her feel oddly victorious, like Oliver in no way hindered her ability to have fun and look good doing it. She opted instead for her favorite clingy black dress with cutouts on the sides, sky high pumps, smoky eyes, and voluminous curls. Ray looked like his heart was close to beating out of his chest at the sight of her, a look that made her feel something resembling good for a split second.

They arrived at the Gala fashionably late and spent the night laughing off assumptions that they were an item in that cute, coy way. And they sang Islands in the stream at the Karaoke machine, both flubbing their lines multiple times and laughing it off, a side effect of the free cocktails. If it weren't for the damn pie it would have been a perfectly pleasant, fun evening, if not the precursor to another casual date, just a rebound thing as far as Felicity was concerned.

He'd insisted that she try it, that it was the best dutch apple pie he had ever tasted in his life. Professor Dibny had brought it, and he had developed a sterling reputation for the baked goods he brought to every function. She was a bit full at that point, having had two helpings of Professor Gordon's vegetarian lasagna, and a rice krispy square, but she had to admit the pie looked delicious. And Ray was right, it was absolutely delicious, tart, carmelized apples, a buttery, flaky crust, and a brown sugar crumble with an extra something that she couldn't pinpoint until the second she began to break out into angry hives and her tongue began to swell.

"Awr they nuts in dis pie Rauff?" Felicity asked, her pronunciation hindered by the swelling already beginning around her mouth.

"Oh no, you didn't eat it did you?" Ralph said, his eyes wide in fear. "I thought I labeled it. There's crushed pecans in the topping Felicity, I think you might want to get yourself to a hospital.

Ray stayed with her at the hospital, apologizing repeatedly about the incident, and although she kept swearing it wasn't his fault, she couldn't help but resent him just the tiniest bit for failing to remember the three times she's mentioned her nut allergy in passing to him.

"Are you sure there's nothing else I can do Felicity, I really am so sorry about all this," Ray says as he walks her to her door.

"No, I'll be fine in da mornig, I pwobiss," She insists. "I dust need somb sleep'

"Okay, and you promise you'll call me, tell me how you are?"

"I pwobiss," She says again, opening her door. "I'll-

She stops short at the sight of him, pacing across the living room, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck. It's only been a week, but it feels like forever since she's seen him last. Oliver, her stupid Oliver.

"Owiver?" She says incredulously. "Wud awe you doig hewe?"

"Felicity," He says. "Jesus I've been waiting here for hours, I mean I didn't know whether I should come in or not at first but I still had my key so I figured..."

"Did you come hewe fo yo things?"

"No, I came here for you Felicity," He blurts. "I came here because I can't stop thinking about you, at all, and I've tried because I know you said you want nothing to do with me any more and I really want to respect that because I don't blame you at all but I can't do it anymore."

He pauses, looking at her as if he expects her to interrupt, but she doesn't, either because she isn't sure what to say or because she just really missed his voice.

"Hi, um, I'm Ray," Her date says awkwardly.

"How're you doing," Oliver says flippantly before facing Felicity again, walking up to her and taking both of her spotty hands in his. "Listen Felicity, I know I messed up, but I want a second chance, well I guess this is more like a thousandth chance, but still, I love you too much not to fight for that."

"Wait, you...

"Love you, yes," He repeats.

"Should I maybe... go?" Ray says again gesturing toward the door.

"Could you?" Oliver says.

"Owiver, be nice," She says before turning to her date. "But sewiouswy Way, I call you awight?"

"Sure, and tonight was fun, you know aside from the... obvious," With that he disappears back into the hall, closing the door behind him.

"You wuv me?" She says, trying not to let any emotion show on her red, spotty face.

"I do, and you don't have to say it back, that's not what this is about, I just needed you to know. I love you, and I don't deserve you and... I am sorry but what is wrong with your face?"

"Owiver!" she says, smacking his arm. "Way to wuin it."

"I'm sorry that came out wrong, it's just... are you okay, how did this happen?"

"Thewe was a pawty tonight and the pie had pecands in it."

"But you're allergic to nuts."

"Yeah, at least one puhson rebebers," She says. "So, I guess I'm Fuglicidy again huh?"

"You were never Fuglicity, not for a second."

When he kisses her she knows she should push him away, that she should still be mad as hell at him, but she just can't bring herself to, she's missed this so much, touching him, him touching her, his mouth on hers, his sweet rugged smell, him. And to know that he loves her, that in spite of everything he loves her, it's just too much to say no to. It could also be the drowsiness from the insane amount of benadryl she downed at the hospital, but whatever it is she doesn't push him away until he begins to unzip her dress.

"No, Owiver, I look gwoss," She says.

"You're beautiful," he says with conviction. "Seriously I've never wanted you more."

She lets out a little snort at the comment that's silenced by another long kiss. "We still have a lot to tawk about, don't fowget that. But you know, it cand wait."

And she unzips it the rest of the way down herself.

It's so much at once, to be with him like this. to feel his hands and mouth on her broken out body like it's nothing at all, like she's the most beautiful thing in the world. He steals her breath when he buries himself to the hilt inside of her and starts to rock slowly in and out. She digs her heels into his naked ass, claws at the sheets, clings to his broad, strong back. And he kisses her mouth, her face, her warm neck, her forehead. Like he loves every single complicated, messed up, awkward inch of her.

"This is where I want to be Felicity, with you," he pants between thrusts. "No matter what, no matter how much money I have or don't have, no matter what we go through. I want this."

She pulls him in tighter, pressing her mouth against the space right near his ear. "I want this too."

****

When she's still there in the morning, next to him on her bed, he feels as if the crushing weight of this week has been lifted. Like he can finally take the time to ponder all of the changes that have taken place in such a short time. There's still so much to do. Walter still needs to be contacted, several press conferences still need to be attended, as well as endless meetings with his lawyer. But somehow it feels like the worst of it is over, like he can take a moment to breath and take his next steps, with her.

"Hey you," she says sleepily, snuggling in closer. "Oh my god!" she continues, snapping fully awake as she touches her face. He catches the sheets in his face as she throws them off of her, scrambling nude out of bed and to her mirror.

"Oh thank God, I'm human again," she says touching her newly clear skin.

"Do you feel okay?"

"Are you kidding? I feel great, it's a beautiful day, I just had sex for the first time in forever, and I no longer look like a sheet of red candy buttons, life is good," She climbs back into bed, kissing him sweetly. "I'm glad you came. I was really mad but... I think I would have been madder if you just never came back at all."

"That was never going to happen," He insists.

"I know, but with everything on the news-

"Hey, I'm still me okay, I'm still your roommate, and I would still do anything for you. I need you to know that."

"And you promise me there's nothing going on with you and Isobel?"

"No, and I know you're wondering what I saw in her in the first place, and I do too sometimes but, when it comes down to it, I just didn't think I deserved any better.. Honestly, I still don't, but I want to. I want to deserve you Felicity."

"I think you're well on your way," she giggles and kisses him again. "Hey do you want pancakes?"

"Always."

She leaves him with a final kiss and gets back up, letting him enjoy watching the smooth curves of her naked body.

"Brace yourself Oliver, I'm about to put on your shirt from last night, do you think you can handle that level of coupliness?"

"Felicity the thought of you wearing my shirt just makes me want to get you naked again."

"Well tough," she says, picking up his blue button down, her personal favorite, and pulling it on.

"Yeah that's not going to work, the hair, the shirt, you know I'm weak babe."

"Well, Ray's hired a sub considering my little incident yesterday, so after pancakes I say we go for round two."

"I love that idea."

She makes her way toward the kitchen and starts to arrange the various ingredients on the counter, feeling like everything is going to be okay for once. She didn't realize how much she missed him until she saw him waiting there for her, at that second she knew she couldn't let him go again, she just hopes to God that he doesn't screw it up this time.

"Oliver, Oliver open this door!" she drops the egg into the bowl at the sound of pounding and yelling on the other side of the door.

"Oh no," she whispers under her breath. "Not again, not now."

"Oh god, I can't believe she's here," Oliver says, entering the room in his boxers and T-shirt. "I know I sound like a broken record but I'm really sorry about this."

"Oliver I know you're in there, you can't ignore me!" She yells even louder. Felicity checks the clock on the oven, it's not even eight, clearly Isobel Rochev has no qualms about ruining everyone's morning.

"Well I say answer it, she's not going to go away," Felicity says with a shrug.

He obliges, taking a moment to breath before answering the door for Isobel.

"Seriously, you have a mansion, why in god's name would you come back to this cracker box?" Isobel says angrily.

"Because Isobel, this is where my girlfriend lives," Oliver says, making Felicity smile a bit. "And where I live, if she'll have me. Now I'm sorry I didn't call but I don't think I should have to break up with you three times."

"Really, that's how it is? After everything I did for you?"

"Don't you mean everything you did for you Isobel?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean suddenly you're interested in being with me now that I'm rich again? Admit it Isobel, it was never me you loved, it was my name, but I can see very clearly what you are now and I want no part of it. Now thank you so much for tracking down Slade Wilson, I truly appreciate it and you can expect generous compensation for your efforts, but this? You and me? We're done."

"Really, you're leaving me, for her? Some poor teacher with fat ankles?"

"Did he freaking stutter?" Felicity chimes in.

"This isn't over Queen, you have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Well as long as you believe in yourself, " With that he slams the door, shutting Isobel Rochev out of the apartment and out of his life once and for all.

"So, how about those pancakes?" Oliver says with a smile. And Felicity can't help but smile back.

**Stay tuned for the epilogue folks!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for the final chapter, thank you all for following and commenting on this story, you're truly the best!

_Graduation can't come soon enough, Felicity thought to herself. College has to be better than this. She fell backward onto her bed, going over the night in her mind. Why she ever considered going to prom seemed like a mystery. It felt like a good idea at the time. It was an invaluable teenage rite of passage, and the dress her mom had sent her was truly beautiful, champagne with a beaded bodice and soft pink satin layers that peekabooed through the flowy gauze skirt. Holt had taken her to the salon to get her hair and makeup done, and by the time they were finished her hair was transformed into shiny, soft-looking waves, and her acne was almost completely disguised. If only her braces had come off by that point, she could almost pass for cute. It didn't matter, she was still her, and Oliver and his brethren were still them, and although there were no Carrie level shenanigans, they still couldn't bear the idea of letting her make it through the night unscathed. Nobody talked to her unless it was to give her some backhanded compliment about her "off the rack" number, and going stag meant sitting alone at her table all night long with only a cup of watery punch for company. She wasn't sure what she expected but it would have been nice to go one night without feeling like Fuglicity._

_"Psst, hey, Felicity," She turned her head toward the window, and her body stiffened in shock at the sight of who stood at her balcony. He was a mess, his bowtie undone and hanging limply around his unbuttoned collar, his prom king crown sitting askew on his cowlicky hair._

_"Hey, let me in," Oliver continued, knocking softly._

_"Oliver," she said, getting up from her bed and scrambling to the window. She put one hand on the lock but didn't turn it. "What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?"_

_"Let me in," he slurred his words as he spoke, and suddenly his random appearance made sense._

_"Let me in," he repeated. "Please Felicity."_

_The last time he used her real name it was to threaten her into stealing tests for him, and she in no way expected this time to end any differently._

_"Go home Oliver, you're obviously very drunk."_

_"Come on Felicity," he urged. "I need to talk to you and I'm not leaving until you let me in."_

_"Okay, fine but five minutes and we're done," She said, turning the lock and opening the window._

_"How did you even get up here?" she asked, stepping aside and letting him stumble in with a thud._

_"Wow, I am really... really drunk."_

_"Yeah no kidding, now what do you want?"_

_"I got this in the mail today," he said, righting himself and reaching into his inner jacket pocket, guessing wrong the first time and reaching into the other one. He pulled out a folded and wrinkled sheet of paper. He unfolded it and smoothed it against his body a few times before reading._

_"Dear Mr. Queen, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Princeton University for the 2004 fall semester"_

_A lump formed in her throat at the words, Princeton, the same college that rejected her took Oliver Queen, the goddamned legacy. She'd gotten into MIT which was solidly in her top five, but still, it stung, especially since he in no way deserved it._

_"Congratulations," she said with a bit of a chill in her voice._

_"I don't deserve this," He said as if reading her mind. "The only reason Princeton wants anything to do with me is because of who my parents are."_

_"Well I hardly run the place Oliver. They rejected me."_

_"There's no way I'm going to make it in this place," he continued "You should be going, you're so smart, you're like the smartest person ever and they wouldn't let you in. How great can Princeton be anyway if they won't let you in?"_

_"Oliver-_

_"You should come with me," he said. "I owe you that much right? You can come with me to Princeton and you can live in my dorm and go to class and everything. You'll be so much happier there Felicity, they aren't all bastards like me, they'd actually appreciate you."_

_"Oliver, where is all of this coming from?" Felicity said, softening a bit._

_"I'm scared Felicity, I'm really scared. My mom is counting on me to become the man my father was, but I'm never going to be that man, I'm... I'm nothing."_

_"Oliver, you aren't nothing okay," Felicity said. she didn't know why she felt the need to console him, she hated him, and his sob story did nothing to change that, still, he looked so wounded, so scared. "You're smart, you're really really smart, you just never cared enough to do anything with it."_

_"I should go to China," he continued as if he didn't hear her. "I've always wanted to, maybe open up my own Wuquan, but they'd never go for some gwai lo Kung Fu teacher would they?"_

_"Oliver, pleas-_

_"I guess I just don't fit in anywhere, huh? I mean, I fit in at Starling prep, I was king there," He chuckled, pointing up toward his awkwardly sitting crown. " But that's all gone isn't it?"_

_"Oli-_

_She doesn't get a chance to finish before he grabs her face, kissing her sloppily. It only lasts a second before she pushes him away and slaps him across the face, knocking the crown off of his head._

_"Oh what," He says, a hand on his red cheek. "I can't kiss you? You think you're better than me?"_

_"Oliver," she says, shaking her head in pity. "I know I'm better than you."_

_"You know what," he says, bending down to pick up his crown. "I think you're right."_

_And with that, he was gone._

****

"The secret to a happy marriage is...

'Poopy diapers?' eww, someone was clearly looking to get rid of that one.

'The Reverand Dr. Martin Luther King Jr,' history would suggest otherwise.

'Road head,' okay, that one's just accurate.

'Friction,' Also accurate

'A homoerotic volleyball montage,' well, works for us Bear."

Iris sets the cards out in front of her, thinking hard.

"Okay who said Domestic violence?"

"Yo, right here!" Cisco says excitedly.

"So dark I love it," Iris says, handing him the black card.

"Dammit he's killing us," Felicity says. "I really thought I had that one."

"Yeah, how does homoerotic volleyball montage lose? that works for everything," Ronnie complains.

"Oh don't be such a sore loser," Caitlin says, ruffling her fiance's hair.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you two were in cahoots with each other," Wally says, pointing between Cisco and Iris.

"Hey, I can't help that he rocks at this game," Iris says innocently. "He's kicking my ass too how do you explain that?"

"And watch you win the next one, I see you sis, that's alright though, games just beginning," Wally says, narrowing his eyes.

"This is what I get for going for a younger guy," Linda says, rolling her eyes. "So needlessly competitive. It's only a game."

Oh how I've missed Cards Against Humanity Wednesdays, Felicity thinks to herself as they continue to argue playfully among themselves, and the gradual addition of Ronnie, Cisco, Iris, Iris's brother Wally and Wally's girlfriend Linda has made it all the more lively. The only thing missing is Oliver, unfortunately he can't make the trip to Central City nearly as much as she does since being hired by Starlabs to help reconfigure their entire system. Taking a sabbatical from work is hard, being away from her boyfriend is harder.

"So Felicity, how's the famous boyfriend?" Caitlin says as she replenishes her seven card deck, snapping Felicity back into the conversation.

"He's good," Felicity says. "He's just really busy with the Martial arts studio he's opening with Sensei Digg, and with me going back and forth all of the time I think he gets a bit lonely."

"I can imagine," Barry says. "But the new and improved Star Labs is almost up and running, soon you'll be back home for good."

"Yeah, but I'm going to miss hanging out like this," Felicity says.

"Well I hope you won't be a stranger, maid of honor," Caitlin says.

She and Caitlin haven't been close like this in as long as she can remember, and she's been making a secret vow to not let things get as detached as they were before. If she has to kidnap her she'll make sure she comes to Starling City Comic con next month to join their Walking Dead group.

"You can rest assured that I won't be a stranger, but you better not bail on con again this time, we need our Carol, you don't want your gray pixie wig to go to waste do you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it Beth," She says warmly.

"Okay can you guys cut it out with the fangirl Thelma and Louise shtick, I've got a game to win," Wally says, reminding Felicity of how impatient an age 23 is.

"Okay, my turn" Barry says, pulling the black card. "Blank, it's what's for dinner."

"Oliver-" Iris says, seemingly startled.

"Kind of a weird choice babe, is that even a card?" He says, peeking over at her deck.

"No, I mean it's Oliver," Iris says, pointing at the door. Felicity turns her head to see him standing there, a familiarly suave smile on his face, a 24 pack of IPA under his arm.

"Sorry, I know I should have knocked but I know you usually leave the door unlocked on Cards against Humanity Wednesdays.

"Oh my god, Oliver," Felicity says, frantically throwing down her card and scrambling up to greet him with a tight hug. "You jerk, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Well, I wanted to surprise you," he says with a shrug.

"You guys, can you give us just a minute?" Felicity says, taking the beer away from Oliver and setting it on the table near the door. "Come on," she says, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.

He doesn't have the time to respond as she pushes him against the wall and kisses him hard.

"God I missed you," she exhales as she come up for air.

"I missed you too, why do you think I'm here?" Oliver says. "But I have a few nights off so I thought I'd spend them with you, and you know, the Central City brigade."

"I'm so glad you did,you have no idea, you're better than a sight for sore eyes, you're Visine babe."

"You too, I really needed to see your face after that Job interview with Nyssa. My balls still haven't come back down"

"Oh God, are you actually going to hire her?" Felicity said, her nose wrinkling in amusement.

"Well I kind of have to, she's easily the best person for the Job."

"Well, I'm sure Sensei Digg and Roy will protect you," She says in reference to Roy's new position as assistant manager at the Lian Yu Martial Arts school, set to open any day now.

"Oh, and speaking of Roy, Him and Thea are here too. I tried to get them to stay put but Thea didn't have any classes and Roy's off work, and you know, they've never seen Central City. I hope that's okay, they should be over with some Big Belly Burger for everyone in a few minutes."

"Are you kidding? If they come with Big Belly Burger Barry might never let them leave."

"Well, just thought I'd check."

She kisses him again, unable to do it enough. "You know, I was just thinking about our first kiss," she continues as she pulls away.

"Yeah, at that convention, you really caught me off guard."

"No, the other one, after prom."

He furrows his brow in confusion, clearly at a loss for what she could be referring to.

"Oh my god!" he says, the light finally coming on. "I haven't thought about that in years."

"Me neither, but the other night I was thinking about you and it just popped into my head like it had never left."

"Well, it certainly wasn't my finest hour."

"Actually, back then, it kind of was. It was the first time I think I ever saw the real Oliver," she explains. "And I blew him off."

"I deserved it."

"Yeah, but you needed someone to talk to and I was too blinded by my extreme hatred of you to listen. Just think, how different things could have turned out if I would have sat you down that night and just let you say what you needed to say?"

"I probably wouldn't have even remembered the next day," Oliver admits, shaking his head. "You did the right thing Felicity, I needed to take a long hard look at myself over the years that followed, and everything, Princeton, Tommy, China, Thea, Laurel... Isobel. All of the betrayals, all of the failures, all of the tears, they made me stronger, they made me... me. And they led me back to you Felicity, so in a way, it wasn't all for nothing."

She kisses him again, tenderly and slowly, letting him wrap his strong arms around her.

"I love you Oliver Queen," She whispers against his mouth.

"I love you too Fel-

"Guys, get your asses in here!" Cisco shouts, interrupting him. "It's Felicity's turn!"

"Come on, With your help I know I can beat that smug bastard," Felicity says, taking his hand giddily and leading him inside. Eleven years ago she never pictured herself this way, with a life, friends, utterly in love with Oliver Queen, and loved back in return. But she hardly saw the use in questioning it anymore, because Oliver was right. Everything they have been through together, and separately has led them to this place.

**That's all folks!**


End file.
